


if life were made of moments

by inimitabler



Category: Glee
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, 30 Days of Writing, F/F, Now Complete!, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Wish me luck, a lot of fluff, feel free to leave comments as you go!, i mention a lot of musicals, i'm sure you'll find something you like, lots of different universes too, will add more tags as i keep writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 67,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24529042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inimitabler/pseuds/inimitabler
Summary: A series of thirty one-shots depicting various moments throughout Quinn and Rachel's lives, each inspired by a different 30 Day Writing Challenge prompt. Mostly unrelated to each other, various universes, settings, all faberry endgame.
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Comments: 139
Kudos: 323





	1. day 1: holding hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So my friend, Charlie (sorryforthedead on ao3) came to me with this idea of doing a 30 day writing challenge, and I, stupidly, said I would do it with him. So, here I am, attempting to do this. Ideally, this will be updated once a day for the next thirty days with a new little one-shot inspired by the prompt for that day. They will probably be unrelated to each other, but I will leave a note if they need any sort of context. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: Hello, this is me, writing from the day I finished this. As you can see, it took me a bit more than thirty days to complete this, but the first twenty or so were written day-by-day. Feel free to leave comments as you go if you feel so inclined to, and, unless otherwise noted, these are not related to each other, so feel free to jump around as you please! (Though I do believe they are all worth reading.) I tried to include a brief description of each one-shot at the top of each chapter, so you can get a general idea of what's going to happen in each one. Thanks, and hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day One is a go! Takes place the summer after their junior year. Quinn asks Rachel for help with something, and Rachel can't say no.

Rachel is painting her nails when her phone vibrates from across the room. Curious, she quickly finishes up her nails and blows on them for a minute before walking to haphazardly pick up her phone with the palms of her hands. She moves to her bed, sets her phone down, and turns it on. Her screen lights up with a name and message that shock her.

_Quinn: Wanna come help me with something?_

It takes a minute for Rachel’s heart to slow down. It isn’t often that Quinn Fabray texts her, especially when it’s the summer, and it certainly has nothing to do with Glee. Ever since school ended, Quinn has been AWOL. No one has seen or heard from her since the last day of school, and, if Rachel’s being honest, she’s been worried about her. After the whole Nationals fiasco and Quinn randomly cutting her hair, Rachel has been concerned for Quinn.

So to say that Rachel is surprised to see a text from Quinn asking her for help with something when no one has heard a peep from her for nearly two months is an understatement.

Satisfied with her nails, Rachel picks up her phone and carefully types a response.

_Hi, Quinn. Help with what, exactly?_

The response is quick. _Something. Can you not read?_

Rachel huffs at the vague reply and hint of snark that shines through her message. Still, she’s going to offer her assistance because she is a kind person (and she’s dying to see Quinn and make sure that she’s okay).

 _I would love to help._ She types. _How have you been?_

The response, yet again, is quick, and Rachel isn’t surprised to see that Quinn ignored her question. _Front door is unlocked. Come over whenever._

Seeing as she has no plans for the day, Rachel promptly cleans up her nail polish and throws on a pair of shorts and a tank top that Quinn (most likely) will not make fun of her for wearing. 

The drive over to Quinn’s is quick, just over six minutes, and, before she knows it, Rachel is standing in front of Quinn’s house. Taking a deep breath, she walks up the steps to the front door and knocks twice. As her fist collides with the solid wood frame of the door, she remembers that Quinn had said the front door was unlocked, and she opens the door and walks inside the Fabray home.

She’s been here once before, when she and Quinn had sung a duet together and had a practice session at her house. It looks mostly the same from when she was here last, and the sound of soft music from upstairs has Rachel quickly taking off her shoes and heading up to the source of the music. Not surprisingly, it is coming from Quinn’s bedroom, and Rachel knocks on the ajar door out of courtesy. 

When Quinn opens the door, Rachel’s breath is taken away. Quinn doesn’t look any different than normal, but the mere fact that she is alive and present in front of her after almost two months is enough to catch Rachel off guard, despite logically knowing that Quinn is okay. Her hair is still short, obviously, and it looks recently cut, too.

“Hey.” Quinn says, moving out of the doorway to let Rachel through.

Rachel edges past Quinn, heading straight to the record player sitting on her desk. _Elton John’s Greatest Hits_ is playing, and it looks like it just started. “Elton John?” She asks in lieu of a greeting.

Quinn shrugs. “I’m a fan.”

Rachel hums along to the song currently playing, losing herself for a moment. “ _Your Song_ is my favorite.”

“Me too.” Quinn says.

It’s silent after that, the two of them just standing and listening to the song gently crackling through the speakers. Once the song ends and the next one starts, Rachel moves away from the record player to sit down in the chair at Quinn’s desk.

“So,” Rachel begins, “What am I helping you with today?”

“This,” Quinn says, and she holds up a black box showing a woman with hot pink hair on it.

Rachel’s jaw drops. “Is that… hair dye?”

“Yep.” Quinn replies, popping the “P” at the end.

“A-And you want me to…” Rachel trails off, not exactly sure where this is heading.

“Help me dye my hair.”

Rachel’s mind is spinning with questions: Dye her hair? Why ask Rachel? Why not Santana or Brittany? Why is she dying her hair? But all that comes out of her mouth is, “Pink?”

“Uh, yeah.” Quinn laughs.

Rachel looks at the box, then back at Quinn, then back at the box, and then back at Quinn once more. Quinn wants her here. Quinn wants her help, for whatever reason. And, well, Rachel will be damned if she doesn’t stick around and help her.

“Okay, let’s do it.” Rachel says.

Quinn’s eyebrows raise in shock. “Really?”

Rachel says, “Were you expecting me to say no?”

“No, well, I just…” Quinn stutters. “Never mind, let’s just do it. Take this into the bathroom in the hall, and I’ll be there in a second.”

Grabbing the box from Quinn, Rachel heads into the bathroom and opens the box. She puts on the gloves and begins reading the instructions. She’s realizing this is a lot easier than she thought when Quinn walks in, having changed into a tank top and what look like old gym shorts, and Rachel is shocked to see Quinn dressed so casually. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen the girl not wearing some kind of blouse, dress, or skirt, and Rachel can’t lie and say that this casual look doesn’t look great on her.

Quinn runs a hand through her hair, tousling it a little bit. “We all ready to go? You read the instructions?” 

Rachel nods as Quinn lays some old towels on the floor and grabs one for herself. She sits down on a fold out chair and looks up at Rachel expectantly. Promptly, Rachel empties the contents of the dye into a bowl that Quinn had sitting on the sinktop, along with a little brush. 

_It's cute how she laid everything out already,_ Rachel thinks.

She turns back to Quinn and sections her hair into four parts. Grabbing the brush, she dips it into the dye and gets a decent amount on it. 

“You ready?” Rachel asks, hand hovering above Quinn’s roots on the top of her head.

Quinn absently reaches back with her hand and grabs Rachel’s free hand. She tangles their fingers together and gives her hand a tight squeeze. Making eye contact with Rachel through the mirror in front of them, she says. “Do it.”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Rachel squeezes her hand back and releases it. She adjusts Quinn’s head one last time and goes for it: she paints the dye onto Quinn’s roots, hearing Quinn gasp at the feeling. 

“Are you okay?” Rachel can’t stop herself from asking.

Quinn clears her throat. “Yeah, I’m good. Keep going. It was just… shock. Or something.”

Rachel continues painting the dye onto the top of Quinn’s head, making eye contact with her through the mirror every so often. Quinn looks calm, peaceful even. At one point, she closes her eyes as Rachel runs her fingers through the top of her hair to untangle a knot. 

She works her way through the sections of her hair and watches the previously blonde locks get coated with the slick, hot pink dye. Rachel watches for Quinn’s reactions, but her face remains expressionless, an odd sense of tranquility washing over her at times. By the time she’s nearly finished, Quinn, still, is blank-faced.

“And… we’re done.” Rachel announces proudly. She sets the brush down in the bowl and carefully peels her gloves off. Quinn stares at herself in the mirror for a moment, head coated in pink, before she turns around and meets Rachel’s gaze.

“Thanks.” Quinn says. “How long do we have to wait?”

Rachel smiles at the inclusive word choice. “The box says anywhere from twenty minutes to an hour, depending on how deep you want the color to be.”

Quinn stands up and moves past Rachel out of the bathroom. She calls over her shoulder, “Guess we’re waiting an hour, then.”

* * *

An hour later, they are back in the bathroom, Quinn yet again sitting in the folding chair, now positioned directly in front of the sink. 

(The past hour was spent in mostly awkward silence after Quinn put on a different record, _Abbey Road_ by the Beatles, and they sat there and just listened. It was the longest hour of Rachel’s life.)

Now, she’s standing over Quinn, guiding her head back to lean over the sink, and turning on the faucet. Once the water is at a comfortable temperature, Rachel cups some water in her hands and gently lathers it through Quinn’s hair to distribute the color a little bit better. Quinn’s eyes fall shut at the first touch of Rachel’s hands to her head, and Rachel pauses for a moment to admire the absolute look of serenity on Quinn’s face. 

She hasn’t seen it in a while, and, well, she’s missed it.

Satisfied, Rachel guides Quinn further back into the (rather large) sink and begins to rinse the dye from her hair. She watches the water turn pink as it hits her head and falls down the drain. Rachel runs her hands through Quinn’s hair, massaging out every last bit of hair dye, and her breath catches at the sight of the bright pink hue it is leaving behind.

A few minutes later, she’s done, and she turns the water off and grabs a towel to place underneath Quinn’s neck. Quinn sits up and grabs the towel, running it through her hair to dry it off. When she’s finished, she holds the towel out in front of her, and they both laugh at the pink stains all over the fabric.

Rachel looks at Quinn, with her newly pink hair, and a grin takes over her face. It looks good. It looks _really_ good. And Quinn hasn’t even seen it yet.

“How is it?” Quinn asks nervously.

Rachel gestures to the mirror behind her. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

Quinn lets out a shaky breath. Suddenly, she grabs Rachel’s hand. 

Only to be met with Rachel’s still wet and pink-tinted skin because she has yet to wash and dry off her hands.

Quinn grimaces, and Rachel laughs loudly, moving to quickly wash her hands. She scrubs them viciously, ridding them of as much pink as she can, dries them on the nearest towel, and grabs Quinn’s hand again.

“Ready?” Rachel asks.

Quinn meets her eyes and simply nods. She stands up, hand still held tightly in Rachel’s, gives her hand a tight squeeze, and slowly, oh so slowly, turns around to see herself in the mirror.

“Oh, wow.” Quinn breathes out.

Rachel watches Quinn look at herself in the mirror, carefully watching her face for any sort of reaction. Nothing happens for a while, but, then, Rachel notices the slight quirk of her lips which morphs into a full-blown smile. Quinn lets out a heavy sigh as she grins, and Rachel can’t help but smile right back at her.

Quinn turns to look at Rachel. “Thank you.” She lifts their entwined hands and shakes them a little bit in emphasis. “Thank you.”

Rachel’s heart flutters at the pure joy on Quinn’s face. “Of course, Quinn.”

They’ve never been the closest of friends, and Rachel doesn’t know what today means for them, but she knows, with Quinn’s hand in hers, they must be doing something right.


	2. day 2: cuddling somewhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! Day two! It's Nationals during their senior year, and Rachel and Quinn end up in the same hotel room, and, well, I'm sure you can guess the rest.

“You have to be kidding me.”

Quinn knew Mr. Schue was dumb, but she didn’t think he was this stupid. 

“What’s up?” Brittany asked, having heard Quinn’s comment.

She walked over to where Quinn was standing, right outside Mr. Schue’s office, and looked at the sheet of paper that had Quinn nearly fuming.

Brittany smiled when she read it. “Oh! We’re rooming together for Nationals! This will be so much fun!”

“Yeah, we are…” Quinn trailed off.

She and Brittany were rooming together for Nationals. With Santana. And Rachel. Quinn, Brittany, Santana, and Rachel, all together in one room. With two beds. And, considering the fact that Brittany and Santana were, you know, _dating_ , it’s just Quinn’s luck that she’s gonna end up sleeping in a bed next to Rachel Berry.

Santana walked in and headed straight toward where the two blondes were standing. After reading the paper, Santana just laughed and grabbed her girlfriend’s hand.

“Have fun with that, Q.” She said, and Quinn rolled her eyes and walked to her seat in the risers. Just then, Rachel entered the room and immediately walked directly up to Quinn. 

“Hi! I’m not sure if you’ve seen, but it looks like we’ll be rooming together for Nationals in Chicago!” Rachel said brightly.

Quinn forced a smile onto her face. “Yeah, I saw. Should be fun.”

But it wasn’t going to be fun. Because it was her senior year, and she was so close to finishing high school and leaving the hellhole of Lima, Ohio, and leaving everyone and everything behind, and now she was going to have to spend two nights in a bed with Rachel Fucking Berry, the girl whom Quinn has recently come to terms with her crush on.

She was so close. And, now, they are going to be _so close_ , in a bed together, and Quinn doesn’t know if she can take it.

“I was a bit surprised that all of us girls weren’t thrown into a single room together like last year, but I suppose we could afford a few extra rooms this year.” Rachel said.

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean that Tina and Mercedes have a room to themselves?” That didn’t seem right.

“No, Kurt is with them.” Rachel explained. “I actually managed to convince Mr. Schue to let Kurt room with them, and he agreed as long as Kurt wouldn’t be sharing a bed with either of them. Hence the reason why I offered to join the room with you, Santana, and Brittany.”

“Huh, that’s… really nice of you, actually.” Quinn said.

Rachel smiled politely. “Yes, well, I remember Kurt complaining about the rooming situation in New York last year. I just hope I’m not imposing on you at all.”

“No, not at all.” Quinn lied. “Like I said, it should be fun.”

“Great!” Rachel grinned, and Quinn couldn’t stop herself from smiling right back.

 _Well_ , Quinn thought, _This will be awful._

* * *

The first night, Quinn was nervous. Extremely nervous.

It had been a long day of bus rides and sightseeing around downtown Chicago. Her legs and lower back were aching after all the walking, especially considering she had just relearned to walk within the past two months. She had gained a slight limp in her step that became more and more noticeable as the day went on, and all she wanted to do was to climb in bed and relax.

Except she couldn’t exactly do that with Rachel lying right beside her.

So, instead, she’s decided that she’ll sleep on the small armchair in the corner of the room. Not the most comfortable, not by a long shot, but she knows she’ll sleep better there than if she were laying next to Rachel, no matter how much her back will hate her for it in the morning.

She had just gotten out of the bathroom after showering and was putting her things away in her suitcase when Rachel asked, “Quinn, which side of the bed do you prefer?”

Quinn watched Brittany and Santana disappear into the bathroom behind her to do God knows what, and she sighed. “I’m actually gonna take the armchair tonight.”

Rachel was shocked. “Absolutely not, Quinn.”

“Absolutely yes.” Quinn retorted, stealing a pillow and blanket from the other bed.

Rachel walked over and grabbed the offending items from her. “No, you’re not. Especially not with how much pain you’re clearly in right now.” She paused to gesture to Quinn’s legs. “If it makes you that uncomfortable sleeping next to me, I will take the armchair, but I won’t let you sleep there.”

Quinn’s jaw dropped. “No, that’s not it, Rachel.” She needed an excuse, and she needed one fast. “I just… tend to take up a lot of space when I sleep, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Well, at least it wasn’t a total lie.

“I assure you, Quinn, I won’t be uncomfortable.” Rachel insisted. “But I _will_ be uncomfortable if you sleep in that chair when there is a perfectly good bed right here.”

Quinn eyed the bed hesitantly. It was so tempting, and it was queen-sized; it wasn’t like they would be cramming themselves into a tiny twin-sized bed. And her back was aching, and her legs were dying for a break, and Quinn really didn’t want to sleep in that fucking armchair.

She looked at Rachel, her big brown eyes shining with genuine concern, and she knew she was gonna give in. “Fine, I won’t sleep in the armchair. But you won’t either. We’ll just put up some pillows or something, so that I don’t take up the entire bed.”

“You could always just cuddle!” Brittany called from inside the bathroom. Santana’s laughter rang loudly as both Quinn and Rachel blushed. 

“And how exactly would that help?” Quinn called back, ignoring the fierce red tint on her cheeks.

The door to the bathroom opened, and Brittany walked out in just a towel. “If you cuddle, you won’t be worried about taking up too much space because you’ll be touching each other anyway.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Santana agreed, head poking out of the doorway behind her girlfriend.

Quinn shook her head. “Thanks for the lovely suggestion guys, but I think pillows will do just fine.” There was no way Quinn was about to get into a bed with Rachel Berry and cuddle with her. No way.

“Well,” Rachel started, and Quinn spun around to look at her. “It-It’s not the worst idea, actually.”

Quinn was flabbergasted. “What?”

Rachel’s blush deepened, and Quinn heard Santana snickering before Brittany pushed her back into the bathroom and closed the door behind them. Returning her attention to Rachel, Quinn raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“I-I mean… I would hate to think that you’re confining yourself to only take up a certain amount of space rather than just being in whatever position you need to be comfortable.” Rachel explained. “And, well, I won’t lie and say that I don’t sleep better when I’m cuddling someone or something rather than being by myself.”

Quinn’s mind raced with the idea of cuddling with Rachel, choosing to ignore the implication that the aforementioned “someone” was most likely Finn. Was she really gonna agree to this? To cuddle with Rachel, the girl she’s had a massive crush on for weeks, months, maybe even years?

One look into Rachel’s hopeful eyes, and Quinn was a goner.

She met Rachel’s eyes and nodded, only slightly, before she grabbed her phone, charger, and book, set them on the nightstand, and climbed into the right side of the bed. She let out a deep sigh as her body molded into the soft mattress, and she was instantly glad that she chose this over the armchair. Even if it meant that she’d agreed to spend the night snuggled up with Rachel.

Quinn heard shuffling, then the pulling back of covers, and she felt the bed dip behind her as Rachel got in. Her heart rate picked up, and Quinn picked up her book in an attempt to distract her mind.

“How do you want to do this?” Rachel asked.

Quinn turned her head to look at her, and, wow. Seeing Rachel laying in bed next to her, her hair falling over her face, face free of any makeup, just looking so innocent and gorgeous… Quinn was way in over her head.

“I need to sleep on my back because of… my back, so…” Quinn said.

Rachel nodded. “Okay, so, do you mind if I just,” She scooted closer, pressing herself into her side and lightly resting her head on Quinn’s chest. “Lay like this?”

Quinn’s heart was pounding so loudly in her ears; she really hoped Rachel couldn’t feel it. “That works.” She whispered. 

She brought her arm around Rachel’s back to hold her book back up in front of her, and Rachel only snuggled up closer to her because of it. 

“Good night, Quinn.” She murmured into her neck.

“Night, Rach.” Quinn breathed out. 

(It was the best night of sleep Quinn had gotten since before the accident, and she knew that the small brunette pressed into her side was the reason why.)

* * *

The next day, they won Nationals. It was exhilarating, and they had all been running on a high since the words “New Directions” had slipped from the judge’s mouth. Hours later, after partying and celebrating in one of the boys’ rooms, it was well past midnight, and everyone was retiring to their rooms for the night.

Rachel and Quinn made it back to their room to find Brittany and Santana already passed out in bed after having snuck out of the celebrations an hour earlier. Much to Quinn’s relief, they were both (thankfully) clothed. 

That would not have made for a fun end to her night, especially when she was about to get into bed with Rachel.

Rachel let her use the bathroom first, and Quinn got changed and quickly went through her routine. When she walked out, Rachel disappeared into the bathroom behind her, and Quinn got herself settled into bed. A few minutes later, Rachel walked out in short shorts and a thin tank top, set her things down in the corner of the room, and climbed into the bed next to Quinn.

As she got into bed, Quinn leaned over to shut the lamp light off, submerging them in darkness. Without hesitation, Rachel moved closer to Quinn and snuggled up to her once she had laid back down. Quinn, in turn, placed her arm around Rachel’s back, much like the position they had been in the previous night.

It felt right. Quinn knew she was wrong for thinking that, but it was true. It felt _right._

“Today was such a great day.” Rachel whispered.

“Yeah, it really was.” Quinn agreed. She felt Rachel moving, and she turned her head to see Rachel looking up at her, barely visible in the darkness. 

“Can I tell you something?” Rachel asked.

“Of course.” Quinn said.

Rachel exhaled heavily, and the feeling of her breath hitting Quinn’s collarbone sent shivers up her spine. Rachel murmured, “I… don’t think I want to marry Finn.”

Quinn’s breath caught in her throat. “You don’t?”

“No,” Rachel stated. “Not anymore, at least. I’m not really sure if I ever actually did.”

“Oh.” Quinn breathed. What was she supposed to say? She could ask why, or she could offer her support, or she could say _I told you so_ , although Quinn knew that last option would not be accepted very well.

Instead, Rachel kept talking. “I keep trying to imagine my future with him, spending the rest of my life with him, and I feel more trapped than free when I think about it. And that isn’t how marriage is supposed to be. Marriage is supposed to make me feel happy and content and safe, knowing that I have someone who will always love me, but I just don’t feel that way when I think about marrying Finn. I feel like that when I think of my dads’ marriage, and my friendship with Kurt, a-and spending time with you.”

Quinn’s heart ached. Rachel’s words rang so true in her mind and in her heart but in all of the wrong ways. “Have you told him?”

“No, not yet.” Rachel admitted. “I haven’t told anyone yet, besides you. I just–I’m not crazy, right? I shouldn’t be feeling this way about the man I’m supposed to marry, right?”

“No, you’re not crazy. Not at all.” Quinn assured her. “If you don’t think it’s right, then it’s not right. And you know I support you, no matter what, right?”

Rachel pressed closer to Quinn, tucking her head into the crook of her neck. “Thank you. And, yes, I know that.”

“You deserve real love, Rachel, the best kind of love.” Quinn said before she could stop herself.

Rachel lifted her head up, and their eyes met, Rachel’s shining with something Quinn had never seen before. It was gorgeous. She was gorgeous. And she was her friend.

“Thank you, Quinn. You do, too.” Rachel said sincerely. “I’m so glad to have you in my life.”

She pressed a kiss to Quinn’s cheek and rested her head back down on her shoulder. Quinn tilted her head to rest against Rachel’s, her heart beating strongly in her chest.

“Me too.”


	3. day 3: gaming/watching a movie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made it to Day 3! Quinn watches Funny Girl for the first time.

Finally, the day has come, the day Quinn knows her girlfriend has been waiting for: Quinn is going to watch Funny Girl for the first time.

She has been dating Rachel for just over a month, and it has been the happiest month of her entire life. After Quinn had pined after her for years with no hope of reciprocation, Rachel confessed her feelings for Quinn one random weekend when Quinn was visiting her in New York. Since then, they’ve talked on the phone nearly every day, facetimed three times a week (at least), and, two weeks ago, Rachel visited Quinn at Yale. 

Quinn loves being with Rachel. It has been better than she ever imagined it would be. She gets to hug her, hold her hand, kiss her(!), cuddle with her, cherish her like she deserves to be cherished, do everything she has watched countless men fail to do over the past three years. It's only been a month, and the distance has been difficult, but it's not insurmountable. They are both in their last year of college, and Quinn has plans to do her graduate work in New York (unbeknownst to Rachel). Besides, she's waited so long for this. Now, Rachel is hers, as much as a person can belong to another, and Quinn is doing everything she can to make sure she gets to keep Rachel for good.

Even if that includes spending her night watching Funny Girl with her girlfriend when she hasn’t seen her in two weeks. She is coming to realize that she’ll do anything to make Rachel happy.

“You ready?” Rachel asks her an hour after Quinn has arrived at Rachel’s apartment. (She shares with Kurt and Santana who both went out for the night to give the girls some privacy after saying a quick greeting to Quinn.)

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Quinn says, sitting down in the armchair in the living room.

“Don’t you wanna sit on the couch?”

Quinn shakes her head and gestures for Rachel to come over. When Rachel’s in front of her, Quinn reaches out and pulls her onto her lap, sitting her sideways with her legs draped over the armrest. Quinn wraps an arm around her back, hand resting on her hip, and pulls Rachel tighter against her. Rachel leans into her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

“This works too.” Rachel says, grinning brightly, and Quinn can’t stop herself from capturing her lips in a kiss.

She’ll never tire of kissing Rachel, Quinn decides. It’s only the third time she’s been with Rachel since they started dating, but they’ve kissed enough for Quinn to know that she’ll never tire of it. She’ll never tire of the way Rachel’s lips slide against hers, the little noises she makes when Quinn sucks on her bottom lip, the feeling of her tongue poking out and then sliding against her own.

Rachel pulls back, all too soon in Quinn’s opinion, and presses play on the remote. The opening credits begin, and Rachel leans back into her, tilting her head to rest it against Quinn’s.

Quinn’s senses are overloaded with Rachel, with her scent and the weight on top of her and the sound of her lightly humming along to the intro music, and, yeah, Quinn could never tire of this.

As the movie begins and Barbra utters those famous opening words, Quinn is expecting to hear Rachel quote them along with her, or even mouth them, but she doesn’t. Instead, Rachel sits there, still, unmoving, and Quinn is confused. 

If she’s learned anything about Rachel from the past three years of being friends with her, it’s that the girl loves to talk during movies. She loves to give commentary, talk about the actors or certain scenes, give criticisms, even on movies she’s never seen before. So, where is that girl? Where is her loud, boisterous, opinionated girlfriend? And who replaced her with this girl who hasn’t said a single word for the first five minutes of her favorite movie of all time?

When the first song comes on, _If a Girl Isn’t Pretty_ , she feels Rachel begin to fidget, and Quinn begins to worry. Her feet tap along to the beat, but the rest of her body remains still, her mouth remains shut, and Quinn remains concerned.

By the time the second song comes, _I’m the Greatest Star_ , Quinn can practically feel Rachel vibrating with pent-up energy, but she remains silent and unmoving.

“Rach?” Quinn says, and Rachel spins her head to look at her. “You know you can talk and sing along, right? It’s okay.”

Rachel lets out a heavy sigh and drops her gaze to her hands resting in her lap. “I… I wasn’t sure. Finn never liked it when I did that, especially with this movie.” 

Quinn’s heart breaks inside of her chest at the insecurity and mild pain in Rachel’s voice. “Baby, I’m not Finn.” She says, drawing Rachel’s eyes to meet her own. “I’m Quinn, your girlfriend who has watched many movies with you in the past and knows how much you love to talk and sing during them and loves to hear you do that.” 

Rachel’s face lights up with the shyest, cutest expression that Quinn has ever seen. When Rachel kisses her, Quinn responds eagerly, making _sure_ Rachel knows how much Quinn loves her just as she is.

 _Likes_ her just as she is.

They haven’t said the other word yet, even though the word has been dying on Quinn’s lips for the past month. This thing they have is new, and Quinn doesn’t want to scare Rachel off with the intensity and depth of her own feelings so soon. 

Although it is certainly hard to keep herself from uttering those words when her girlfriend is as amazing as she is. When she hops off of Quinn’s lap to perform (not sing, _perform_ ) the rest of _I’m the Greatest Star_ , Quinn falls for her all over again. And when she’s done and comes to sit back down in Quinn’s lap, Quinn kisses her again, because she can, and delights in the smile she receives. 

After that, Rachel doesn’t shy away from giving commentary on the movie, spouting random facts about the actors, recalling memories she has associated with the scenes. Her love for the movie is evident, and Quinn thinks she is adorable. And, she’s not going to lie, she is enjoying the movie. It’s funny, the music is great, and Rachel’s undying passion for it definitely makes her more inclined to like it.

When Fanny comes on stage during the wedding scene, revealing her fake pregnant belly, Quinn laughs out loud, and Rachel squeals with excitement at her reaction. When the song _People_ comes on, Rachel stays sitting on Quinn’s lap and belts her tiny little heart out. (Quinn isn’t afraid to admit that it brings tears to her eyes. It’s definitely her favorite song thus far.) When _You Are Woman, I Am Man_ comes on, Rachel complains about the heteronormativity and general pervasiveness of rape culture in the song, but she still sings along and kisses Quinn at the end, a long, deep kiss that has Quinn wanting to turn the movie off and engage in some decidedly less G-rated activities.

But she is quickly shut down, Rachel throwing a wink at her as she insists that the best song is coming up. When Quinn hears the intro to _Don’t Rain On My Parade_ , Rachel throws herself off of Quinn’s lap, and Quinn knows that she’s about to witness another performance. And she is not disappointed. Rachel belts out the song like she was born to do so (and Quinn believes that perhaps she was). Quinn watches with awe as Rachel holds out the final note; she stands up, walks over to her girlfriend, and wraps her in a hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. Rachel laughs brightly, and Quinn is reminded just how lucky she is to be dating someone as talented as Rachel Berry.

The rest of the movie passes in a similar manner, the second act a bit more somber than the first. Rachel still sings along with every song, and Quinn gets a bit more invested in the plot than she’s willing to admit. 

She listens to Rachel sing along with the title track, remembering when they went to Carmel High with Mercedes, when Shelby sang the same song. it feels like a lifetime ago, sophomore year of high school. Now, looking at Rachel, eyes closed, lost in the song, Quinn gets overwhelmed with pride for how far they have come since then.

Then, the final song comes, and Rachel gets up from the armchair and stands directly in front of Quinn, taking one of her hands. 

Rachel grins and begins singing, “ _Oh, my woman, I love her so. She’ll never know._ ”

Quinn’s heart flips at the words that they have yet to say out loud to each other. Then, she realizes that Rachel changed the pronouns, and she realizes that she is being sung to. She is being serenaded by Rachel Berry with a love song from her favorite movie of all time.

Quinn is so in love with this girl.

Once she gets to the chorus, Rachel drops her hand and fully commits to her performance. Her eyes shut, her head tilts back, and Quinn watches her perform this song in all of her glory. And she’s incredible. Just like Quinn could never tire of kissing Rachel, she could never tire of hearing her voice.

“ _When she takes me in her arms, the world is bright, alright_ ,” Rachel belts out with all of her heart. “ _What’s the difference if I say I’ll go away when I know I’ll come back on my knees someday?_ ”

Rachel opens her eyes, making eye contact with Quinn, smiling widely. She sings, “ _For whatever my woman is, I am hers, forevermore._ ”

She finishes the note, and Quinn reaches out, grabs her hands, and pulls her onto her lap. Rachel squeals as she falls on top of Quinn, and Quinn lets her adjust before she presses a searing kiss to her lips. Rachel kisses her back, and Quinn relishes in the feeling.

She pulls back and tilts her forehead against Rachel’s. “I can’t believe you changed the words to My Man for me.”

Rachel smiles. “Well, it was just the pronouns. Besides, I couldn’t possibly sing a love song about a man when I’m in–” She cuts herself off and blushes. “When I’m happily dating a woman.”

“I would agree.” Quinn smirks.

“So…” Rachel says, “Did you like it?”

“I like _you_.” Quinn responds. “But, yes, I did like it. I wouldn’t be opposed to watching it again.”

Rachel smiles. “Well, I hope so because I will never stop watching this movie.”

“Oh?” Quinn asks. “And how does this affect me?”

“I told you, Quinn,” Rachel explains, “I plan to be with you _forevermore_.”

Rachel kisses her before she can respond, and Quinn truly can’t complain. She’ll watch Funny Girl a hundred more times if it means she gets to be with Rachel, like this, for the rest of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go watch Funny Girl (1968) starring Academy-Award winner, Barbra Streisand.


	4. day 4: on a date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4! This one was a doozy to write for some reason. Rachel sees her ex at a bar and asks the blonde woman sitting next to her to pretend they know each other. And, well, things ensue. Hope you enjoy!

Rachel’s taking a sip of her margarita when she sees him. 

Brody. Her ex-boyfriend, ex-fling, ex-strand of hookups, ex-friend with benefits, ex-whatever you want to call him, is currently walking through the entrance to the bar that Rachel has been drowning her sorrows in alcohol in for the past hour.

Right when she’s about to turn around, grab her things, and _leave_ , he spots her. Their eyes meet. Rachel panics. He begins to walk in her direction, and she knows it’s too late to avoid him. She needs an out, and she needs it quick.

Her eyes dart around her, and they land on a blonde woman sitting a seat away from her. She’s not one to typically approach strangers in bars, but she heard the woman making conversation with the bartender earlier, so at least Rachel knows that she’s not a complete madwoman. Unless she is, then Rachel is royally screwed.

At this point, she has no other options, and she really doesn’t want to have to talk to Brody for longer than necessary. 

_This is a terrible idea_ , Rachel tells herself as she scoots over a seat and taps the woman on the shoulder. The woman turns around, and–wow. She’s gorgeous. Someone this pretty couldn’t possibly be a serial killer, right?

“Yes?” The woman asks. Her voice is husky, deeper than Rachel was expecting, and it throws her for a momentary loop. Then, she realizes she has been staring silently at this woman for far too long while Brody is rapidly approaching them.

“Hi, this might seem really weird, but my ex just showed up, and I really don’t want to have to talk to him too much, so if you could just pretend that we know each other, I would really appreciate it.” Rachel says all in one breath. The woman looks amused, which isn’t a terrible sign, but she would love any sort of confirmation. “Oh, and my name is _—_ ”

“Rachel!”

Brody walks up to them, and they both spin around in their seats to face him. He’s sporting a mustache that he didn’t have when they were together, and Rachel is two seconds away from telling him that it looks bad when he speaks before she can say anything.

“Rachel, how have you been?” Brody asks.

“I’ve been great.” Rachel lies. “Oh, Brody, this is…” She trails off, realizing she doesn’t even know this woman’s name. Luckily, the woman is game to play along.

“Lucy.” The woman says, and Rachel instantly commits the name to memory. “And you are?”

“Brody. Rachel and I knew each other back in college. Pretty well, I might add.” He says confidently, and Rachel has the overwhelming urge to punch the smirk right off of his face.

Rachel rolls her eyes and mutters, “Not anymore.”

Brody ignores her comment and looks at Lucy. “And how do you know each other?”

Rachel looks at Lucy, too, wondering what she’s gonna say. Lucy looks to her as if seeking permission for something. Rachel doesn’t know what, exactly, but she gives her a slight nod anyway. For some reason, she trusts this woman, and that thought alone terrifies her.

Lucy smirks after Rachel nods, and she simply says, “I’m her girlfriend.”

Brody’s jaw drops, and Rachel can’t stop the grin that's forming on her face. It certainly wasn’t what she was expecting Lucy to say, but it definitely gave her the reaction that she was hoping for.

“Yeah, this is my girlfriend. I’m bisexual. Don’t you remember?” Rachel laughs. “Or did we not know each other that well after all?”

“No, yeah, I remember, of course,” Brody stutters out, much to Rachel’s delight. “I just, well… I thought that was just, you know, a phase.”

Rachel is fuming, and she’s about to go off on him when Lucy speaks before she can say anything. “I can assure you it was definitely not a phase.” 

Lucy smirks, grabbing one of Rachel’s hands and interlocking their fingers, and Rachel’s heart beats rapidly in her chest at the feeling. 

Brody looks between the two of them awkwardly. “Oh, well, alright then. I’ll see you around, Rachel.”

“Hopefully not!” She calls after him as he walks away and takes a seat at the opposite end of the room. Rachel looks at Lucy, an amused expression on her face. “Thank you so much, Lucy.”

“Quinn.” The woman says.

“Sorry, what?”

Running a hand through her hair, Lucy explains, “My name is Quinn. I mean, it’s my middle name, but that’s what I go by. Quinn. I just didn’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing that.”

“Right, well, thank you, _Quinn_.” Rachel says, liking the way the name feels on her tongue.

“I take it you two didn’t end well?” The woman, Quinn, asks sincerely. 

“You could say that,” Rachel says, “It was really just a fling, but after I ended it, he called me for weeks afterward, refusing to take my 'no' as an answer.”

“That’s tough. At least now you have a girlfriend to keep him away.” Quinn winks at her, and the sight of it is unbelievably sexy to Rachel. Quinn continues, “I have to admit, you saying you’re bi was not the follow-up I was expecting when I claimed to be your girlfriend.”

Rachel laughs and shrugs her shoulders. “It helped solidify the lie, didn’t it?”

“Oh, definitely.” Quinn agrees. “It’s nice to play the fake girlfriend for a woman who isn’t straight for a change. I’m used to doing it for my straight friends when we go out, so this is a nice change of pace.”

There’s a beat of silence, allowing Rachel to process Quinn’s spoken (and unspoken) message. Rachel takes a moment to observe the woman, her blonde hair gently falling around her face, her eyes shimmering with mirth, slight grin on her face. She’s wearing a leather jacket over a white button-up blouse, tucked into a pair of black pants. Suddenly, Rachel, in her jeans and blue sweater, feels very underdressed. Still, Quinn did her a huge favor, and Rachel needs to repay her somehow. 

“I don’t suppose I could get you a drink?” Rachel asks, “To say thanks. And maybe because Brody is still sitting here and watching us.”

Quinn eyes her curiously, and Rachel feels like she’s being scrutinized. After a moment, Quinn simply says, “Alright,” and Rachel is overjoyed.

As she flags down the bartender and orders Quinn another gin and tonic, Rachel realizes that they are still holding hands. She pulls her hand away, noting the brief look of disappointment on Quinn’s face that quickly fades into indifference. Then, Rachel realizes that she knows absolutely nothing about this woman beyond her name. She needs to fix that.

“How old are you?” Rachel blurts out before she can stop herself.

“Twenty-four.” Quinn answers, and Rachel is taken aback. “And you?” 

“Twenty-two.” She says, resisting the urge to say she’s almost twenty-three. For some reason, the slight age gap between them makes Rachel feel inferior, and she doesn’t like the feeling. 

“Are you still in college, or…” Quinn trails off.

“No, I graduated last spring. From NYADA. I’m a performer. Well, trying to be, at least.” Rachel rambles, “I’m actually here right now because I didn’t get a spot in the ensemble of a show I auditioned for, so, here I am… and I’m now realizing that I’m talking way too much about myself when I should be asking about you.”

Quinn chuckles as Rachel nervously takes a sip of her drink. “No, it’s alright. I’m enjoying this. It’s cute.”

Rachel blushes, trying not to overanalyze her use of the word “cute.” 

Quinn continues, “But since you asked, I’m in my second year of grad school at NYU.”

“What do you study?” Rachel asks.

“Creative writing.” 

“Wow,” Rachel says. It certainly was not what she was expecting. And she knows the prestige of NYU’s MFA program. “Were you in New York for undergrad too?”

“No,” Quinn answers, “I was in Connecticut. At Yale.”

If Rachel was feeling inferior before, it was nothing compared to what she’s feeling right now. Here she is, talking to this gorgeous blonde, older than her, who graduated from Yale and is now studying at one of the best grad schools in her field. And Rachel? She’s here, sitting in a bar by herself because she didn’t book an ensemble gig that she auditioned for between her shifts at the diner near her apartment. 

“That’s really impressive, Quinn.” Rachel says. “Did you grow up in Connecticut? Or New York, maybe?”

“I’m from Ohio, actually.” Quinn says.

“Really? So am I! What part are you from?” She asks.

“Bellville.”

“I’m from Lima.” Rachel says, and she can’t believe they both ended up here, together, in this bar, today.

“Small world, huh?” Quinn laughs, taking a sip of her drink. “You said you didn’t get a role in a show? That’s why you’re here by yourself tonight?”

Rachel takes a long sip of her margarita and asks the bartender for a second one. “Yeah, it was in the ensemble of Chicago. I don’t do this after every missed audition, or I would end up a borderline alcoholic, but this one was the third rejection I got this week, and I had gotten down to the final three for the spot, and it just hit me harder than usual.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Chicago is a great show,” Quinn placates her, “But they don’t know what they’re missing.”

“You don’t even know me.” Rachel says.

Quinn scoffs. “So, what? I’m sure you’re incredibly talented. You wouldn’t have gone to NYADA if you weren’t.”

Rachel blushes and says, “Thank you, that’s sweet of you to say. What brought you here tonight, by yourself?”

“I was actually supposed to be meeting this girl for drinks,” Quinn says, and Rachel instantly looks around, thinking she’s interrupting some sort of date, and feels awful about it, but Quinn continues, “But I texted her to cancel right after you tapped on my shoulder and asked me to be your fake girlfriend.”

Rachel doesn’t know what to think. “You have a date tonight?”

“ _Had_ a date tonight. That I cancelled.”

“Oh,” Rachel breathes out. “Oh, and I never asked you to be my fake girlfriend! That was all your own doing.”

Quinn raises an eyebrow. “Semantics.”

Rachel watches her carefully. “I’m sorry you missed out on your date.”

“That’s alright. Remember, I was the one who cancelled.” Quinn assures her. “Besides, I’m getting to spend time with you instead. This is as good as any random date to me.”

The implication that they are currently on a date together has Rachel smiling from ear to ear.

The rest of the night passes with little fanfare; Rachel gets to know Quinn, laughs at her jokes, blushes when she flirts. In Rachel’s mind, it’s everything a first date should be. The thing is, she’s still not quite sure where she stands with Quinn or what this evening even means for them. 

For Barbra’s sake, she just met the woman. Rachel is probably reading way too far into this, but she truly can’t help herself. Quinn is charming, witty, and so, _so_ pretty. Really, she’s so pretty that Rachel thinks it must be a crime. 

It must be illegal for Quinn to smile like that when Rachel asks if she wants to share a taxi back to her place, and for her to bat her eyes like that throughout the entire drive to Rachel’s apartment, and for her to raise her eyebrow like that when Rachel’s phone starts ringing just as they pull up to her apartment.

“Sorry, I should take this.” Rachel apologizes as she accepts the call. “Hello?”

“ _Hi, is this Rachel Berry?_ ” A man asks on the phone.

“Yes, this is her.” Rachel says, shrugging when Quinn asks her who is on the line.

“ _Hi, Ms. Berry. This is Dave, the casting director for Chicago._ ” He says, and Rachel wonders why they’re calling again. “ _An additional spot in the ensemble just opened up, and we would like to offer you the role._ ”

Rachel squeals and restrains herself enough to say, “I accept,” into the phone. Quinn looks at her, seeking answers, and Rachel just stares at her while the casting director keeps talking.

“ _Great! We will email you the details, but your first rehearsal will be next Tuesday. Congratulations, Ms. Berry._ ”

“Thank you,” She says into her phone before ending the call.

Quinn’s eyes are wide, mouth agape. “Well?”

“That was the casting director for Chicago.” Rachel explains. “I… I got the job.”

“Rachel! That’s incredible!” Quinn shouts.

Before she knows what she’s doing, Rachel throws herself at Quinn to hug her. Luckily, Quinn hugs her back, wrapping her arms tightly around Rachel’s back. Rachel leans back a little bit, meets Quinn’s eyes, and kisses her before she can stop herself. For that brief moment, with her lips pressed against Quinn’s, Rachel feels elated. Then, she pulls back.

“Shit,” She says regretfully. “Sorry, I really shouldn’t have… What are you doing?”

Quinn has grabbed her phone from her and is typing furiously. Rachel eyes her carefully; she trusts this woman, but she still is essentially a stranger and Rachel’s not sure if–

Quinn kisses her. Rachel kisses her back, grabbing her jacket in her hands and pulling her closer. Yet again, Quinn’s lips against hers feel like heaven, and Rachel wants to bottle this feeling up, so she can have it forever. 

“Hey!” The driver interrupts, pulling them both out of their little bubble. “No kissing in my car. Get lost if you’re gonna do that.”

“Sorry, sir.” Quinn says as Rachel flushes. Quinn hands her phone back to her, and Rachel’s about to ask what she did on it when Quinn explains, “I sent a text to myself so we have each other’s numbers. Now, get lost.”

Quinn winks and shooes her away. Rachel kisses Quinn one last time before she grabs her things and leaves the car. At the slam of the door, the taxi speeds away, and Rachel sighs in relief. She opens her phone and reads the message Quinn sent.

_I wanna kiss you again. We should go on a date sometime. A real one._

Rachel laughs, and a message comes in from Quinn. _Are you asking me out, Rachel?_

She types back, _You sent that text, nerd. But I would love to see you again soon. Are you free tomorrow night? Same bar, at seven?_

Quinn’s response is quick. _It’s a date._

Rachel giggles and jumps around in delight. It’s a date, indeed.


	5. day 5: kissing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Day 5! I'm not gonna lie, this turned out a bit sadder than I was anticipating, but it warms my heart, and I hope you enjoy it.

There’s nothing Quinn loves more than spending time with Rachel. Whether it’s stolen moments in the school bathrooms, during Glee, after school at Rachel’s house, or the rare occasion when they can go out somewhere together, Quinn cherishes every moment. 

They’re young, and they’re in love, and Quinn loves every second she has with her. Especially days like today when they can get out of Lima for a day and fade into the anonymity of the real world around them.

“You ready to go, Rach?” Quinn asks after she pulls into the parking lot of the park.

They’re far out of Lima today, just over an hour and a half out, at Griggs Reservoir Park in Columbus. It’s a date, an escape from the confines of Lima, where they can just be themselves without worrying anyone they know will see. They’ve brought a picnic blanket, a bag full of snacks, a deck of cards, a book or two, Quinn’s guitar, and their “love for each other,” Rachel had said with a grin on her face.

Rachel leans over the center console and kisses her briefly. “Now I am.” She says with a smile.

They exit the car and grab all of their things from the trunk, Quinn grabbing her guitar from the backseat and slinging it over her shoulder. She’s carrying the food in one hand, and she grabs Rachel’s free hand with hers, intertwining their fingers together. Rachel lifts their hands up, pressing a kiss to the back of Quinn’s hand, and swings their hands between them as they walk out onto the grassy field to find a spot to sit down. After a few minutes of walking, they come across a small tree in a semi-secluded corner of the field that casts a small bit of shade over the grass in front of it, and they stop walking to set their things out.

Rachel lays out the blanket, and Quinn sets the bag down on top of it. Slinging her guitar off of her shoulder, she lays it down at the end of the blanket and sits down at the top. Rachel sits next to her, placing the rest of their things off to the side for now. 

“It’s such a gorgeous day out today.” Rachel observes.

Quinn grins and says, “Not as gorgeous as you.” She really makes it too easy sometimes.

Rachel flushes and leans into Quinn, resting her head on her shoulder and a hand on her leg. Quinn presses a kiss to the top of her head and lets out a deep breath. She relaxes, sinking into the feeling of Rachel’s body next to hers. 

She relaxes in a way that she never can back home, not with everyone’s eyes constantly on her, scrutinizing her every single move. It’s exhausting sometimes. Quinn’s constantly being watched, judged, observed. She may enjoy being popular, but, unlike her girlfriend, Quinn doesn’t always love the spotlight. She’s a naturally reserved person, and being with Rachel has only challenged her more to find little moments of solitude and peace within her chaotic days. But she doesn’t mind sharing those moments with Rachel, not in the slightest. It’s finding those moments that is the hard part when there are always eyes on her.

Here, in Columbus, Quinn can breathe. She can relax and be with her girlfriend, knowing that everyone they know is miles and miles away. They can just _be_ , without fear of scrutiny. It’s a blessing that Quinn never takes for granted when she gets it, and one that she envisions her future to contain much more of. 

After a few minutes, Rachel moves to grab them some food, and Quinn reaches to take her acoustic guitar out of its case. (Sam taught her to play after she expressed interest, and she’s certainly no professional, but she is quite adept with most basic chords and finger patterns.) Rachel helps her tune the instrument by humming pitches as Quinn adjusts the pegs to be in tune with her voice. 

The best part about playing guitar is that Rachel loves to sing along to any song that Quinn knows how to play, and Quinn loves to hear Rachel sing.

So that’s what they do. Quinn looks up the chords to songs and strums them out while Rachel sings. It’s enjoyable for them both; Rachel gets to sing and watch Quinn play while Quinn gets to play and hear Rachel sing. They couldn’t make a better duo if they tried. 

“Oh!” Quinn suddenly says after she finishes a song. “I made Sam help me learn this one song the other day because I know you like it.”

Rachel’s intrigued, and Quinn looks down at her hands to make sure she gets the finger patterns right. She begins playing, quickly looking up to see the recognition wash over Rachel’s face. Quinn smiles when Rachel’s face lights up and nods for Quinn to take the intro.

“ _I_ _don’t know you, but I want to all the more for that_ ,” Quinn sings softly, and Rachel joins in with the harmony on the next line. “ _Words fall through me and always fool me, and I can’t react_.”

Their voices blend together seamlessly for the rest of the song. Quinn loves hearing Rachel’s voice, especially on these softer songs where she knows Rachel isn’t so worried about trying to sound good and just lets her natural talent shine through. When the song comes to an end as Quinn strums the final chord, they look at each other for a moment. Quinn sees the adoration shining in Rachel’s eyes that she knows is reflected in her own. She places her guitar in its case and gestures for Rachel to come closer to her. Rachel crawls over and settles in between Quinn’s legs, her back to Quinn’s front.

Quinn wraps her arms around Rachel and whispers, “I love you.”

Placing her hands over Quinn’s, Rachel turns her head to meet her eyes. “I love you, too.”

Rachel leans up and kisses her, and Quinn gladly kisses her back. Her eyes fall shut as she memorizes this moment, this feeling of complete and utter content, the sensation of Rachel’s lips against hers and the overwhelming feeling of love that accompanies it.

It’s a perfect kiss, a perfect feeling, a perfect moment, a perfect day.

“Mommy, why are they kissing?”

At the sound of a young girl’s voice, Quinn turns her head away from Rachel. The girl, maybe four years old, and her mother are walking through the field a number of feet in front of them. A look of disdain crosses over the mother’s face, and Quinn tightens her hold on Rachel.

“Don’t look at them.” The mother spits out. “It’s wrong. They’re wrong. Let’s keep walking.”

Quinn’s entire body tenses up as the mother grabs her daughter’s hand and pulls her along. She watches them walk away, an odd sense of discomfort coming over her. Suddenly, she has the overwhelming urge to put some distance between them, so she does, letting go of Rachel and scooting backwards.

“Quinn?” Rachel says softly, “Baby, don’t worry about them. That woman is just a small-minded, ignorant bigot.”

Quinn nods and moves to the other side of the blanket to start eating some of the food Rachel had prepared. She picks up a grape and tosses it at Rachel, earning a groan from her, and Quinn smiles at the reaction. 

The rest of the day goes on, and Quinn loves spending the time with her girlfriend, but she can’t seem to distract herself from the recurring image of the look of disgust on that woman’s face.

* * *

Later that day, when they’ve gotten back to Rachel’s house for dinner, Quinn still can’t shake the image of that woman’s face out of her head.

She knows not everyone will accept her and Rachel’s relationship. Obviously, she knows that. That’s the entire reason why Quinn’s parents don’t know about them, nor does anyone outside of the Glee club and Rachel’s fathers. That’s the entire reason why they have to drive almost two hours away from their hometown to be able to go on a proper date together. That’s the entire reason why she can’t wait until she can leave for college and get out of this hellhole that is Lima, Ohio.

Homophobia is rampant across the country, especially in Lima, but Quinn has never had to deal with it herself. Not before today, at least. She’s listened to far too many of her father’s lectures about The Gays, and she’s seen the bullying that Kurt has faced at school, and she’s heard stories from Rachel about what she has dealt with regarding her dads. She’s obviously aware of it.

There’s just something different about it when the hatred is directed at her. When Quinn is the one at the end of a repulsed gaze and being told that her love is “wrong.”

It hurt. It still hurts, hours later, and she can’t find it in herself to just get over it in the same way that Rachel already seems to have.

She’s sitting in the kitchen with Rachel and her dads when Hiram asks how their day went. 

“It was wonderful.” Rachel gushes. “The weather was so nice, and we just had the most lovely day. Right, Quinn?”

Averting her eyes, Quinn just nods and focuses on the food in front of her. She’s barely touched any of it, mostly just pushing it around her plate with her fork, because she’s feeling a little nauseous after the day’s events. 

“Quinn, everything alright?” Leroy asks gently.

She nods again, still looking down at her food, and feels all of their eyes on her. She risks a glance up. Seeing Leroy and Hiram’s concerned gazes and turning to Rachel to see her worried expression, Quinn’s eyes begin to fill with tears. Quickly, she tries to blink them away, but they catch on before she can.

Rachel scoots her chair closer to her and rests a hand on her own, which she’s fiddling with nervously in her lap. “Quinn?”

Quinn bites her lip and shakes her head as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. Rachel instantly wipes them away.

“Did something happen today?” Leroy says, his voice harsher than before.

“What do you mean?” Rachel asks before she remembers, “Oh, well, there was this woman in the park that said not the nicest things, but it wasn’t really anything huge.”

Quinn looks down as her tears keep streaming down her face. Now, she’s embarrassed because she was clearly correct in her assumption that Rachel had gotten over the incident while it is still living in Quinn’s mind.

Hiram frowns. “What happened?”

“The woman’s daughter asked why we were kissing, and the woman told her to look away and that it was wrong.” Rachel states, matter-of-fact.

“That we were wrong.” Quinn mumbles.

“What was that, Quinn?” Hiram asks.

She looks up at Rachel’s fathers and explains, “She said that _we_ were wrong. And then she looked at us like… like…” Quinn trails off, getting choked up.

Rachel squeezes her hands and apologizes, saying, “Baby, I didn’t realize this was getting to you.”

“Quinn’s never dealt with prejudice like this before, baby girl.” Leroy explains. “You’ve grown up with two dads. You’ve heard our stories and experienced things like this with us. Quinn hasn’t. Right, Quinn?”

She nods, feeling even more embarrassed. Rachel’s dads, and probably Rachel too, have dealt with far worse things than a random comment in the park, but Quinn is still getting worked up over this minor incident. “I knew this kind of stuff happened, obviously, but it just…”

“It’s different when it’s you, right?” Hiram says, and Quinn nods. “I was the same way. The first time I got called a name in public, it shook me. I was about your age, walking along the street by myself, and it stuck with me for weeks.”

“I just don’t understand… She called us _wrong_ . She said our love was wrong. And she looked at us like we were _monsters_.” Quinn cries. “And that was just one random woman in Columbus. What about kids at school, or my _father_?”

She leans into Rachel, openly crying into her, and Rachel wraps an arm around her and presses a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Quinn, look at me.” Leroy says, and Quinn opens her eyes to meet his gaze, still leaning on her girlfriend. “You are not wrong. You hear me? You are not wrong, and your love is not wrong. There will always be people that will tell you the opposite, and unfortunately, this is just the beginning. But you must always remember that you are not wrong, or a monster, or any of those other things just because you’re in love.”

Quinn sniffles and asks, “Does it ever get easier?”

Leroy sighs, and Hiram chimes in. “I wouldn’t say it gets easier, but you learn to cope. You remember how many have come before you, have fought for your right to exist and have the love that you deserve, and you carry that with you.”

“And you have the ACLU on speed dial!” Rachel says, and Quinn laughs despite herself.

“And you know how many others are on your side.” Leroy says. “I can’t promise something like this won’t happen again, because it almost definitely will, but I can promise that you will always have an ear to complain to, or a shoulder to cry on, or a place to stay with us.”

Quinn exhales heavily into Rachel’s neck, and Rachel squirms a bit at the feeling, amusing Quinn. She says, “Thank you, guys. Thanks.”

Hiram and Leroy stand up and walk around to the other side of the table. Quinn stands up, and they both wrap her in a brief, yet tight, hug before they walk out of the room. Quinn sees their clasped hands, and it brings a smile to her face.

She turns around and sees Rachel standing behind her. “I’m sorry about all of that.” She apologizes.

“Nonsense,” Rachel brushes her off. “I’m glad you got to talk about it. I’m sorry I didn’t consider your point of view sooner.”

Quinn shakes her head and pulls Rachel in for a kiss. Their lips meet, and Quinn knows that something that feels this right could never be wrong.

“I love you.” Rachel murmurs.

“I love you, too."


	6. day 6: wearing each other's clothes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've made it to Day 6 folks! Rachel wears Quinn's Cheerio jacket. Read to find out how.

The icy impact was harsher than Rachel remembered.

As the slushie dripped down her face, Rachel felt the sting in her eyes instantly. Her eyes welled up with tears, both from the pain and the humiliation. It had been months since she’d been slushied, to the point where she’d stopped bringing her Emergency Slushie Kit to school. She stood, sweater soaked and dripping, watching Karofsky drop the cup in front of her, high-five his friends, and walk away. Rachel held her head high, turned on her heel, and headed towards the bathroom.

 _Well,_ Rachel thought as she licked her lips, _At least it was grape._

She walked into the bathroom which was, thankfully, empty. Setting her backpack down next to the sink, Rachel pulled her sweater off and laid it on top of the sink. It was ruined, but it was all she had to wear that day, so she had to figure something out. 

She put her hands under the faucet and began to splash water onto her face to clean the slushie off and lessen the stinging in her eyes. As she wiped the ice from her face, Rachel looked at herself in the mirror and nearly cried at what she saw. Bloodshot eyes from the irritation, face half-covered in purple slush, hair damp and starting to curl. 

She looked like a mess. And she didn’t want to start crying, she really didn’t, but, up until this point, things had been going so well. She was getting bullied less and less every day, she was growing closer to her friends in Glee, and she was happily single after she realized Finn was not the man she had envisioned him to be. Rachel was happier than she’d been in a long time, and it felt like this slushie just brought her back to square one.

Sure, the bullying had stopped from Quinn and Santana and everyone else, but, if the slushie facial from Karofsky was any indication, their hatred for her remained present.

She grabbed her sweater and was ringing it out over the sink when the bathroom door opened. Rachel spun around to see none other than Quinn Fabray standing there. 

Her eyes grew wide, and Rachel realized she was, in fact, wearing solely her bra and skirt. She raced to hold her sweater over her chest and stomach, not wanting to put it back on just yet, and watched as Quinn’s eyes flashed from Rachel’s face, to her sweater, to her hair, to the sink, to her backpack, and then back to her. 

Rachel took in a shaky breath, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Of course Quinn had to be the one that walked in to see her like this. Hell, she was probably the one that ordered the attack in the first place, and now she had come to laugh at the results. 

_Please let this be quick._

Instead, Rachel was (pleasantly) surprised when Quinn stepped towards her and frowned. “Did you get slushied?” 

She sounded confused, and Rachel couldn’t figure out why. Wasn’t it obvious that she had been slushied, just on appearance alone?

“Yeah, I did.” Rachel answered.

Quinn folded her arms across her chest and looked her up and down. She said, “I made those off limits months ago. Who was it?”

Off limits? Quinn made slushies off limits? Months ago? Rachel’s mind was reeling with this new information.

“It-It was Karofsky.” Rachel said. 

Quinn nodded, taking in Rachel’s appearance, yet again. Rachel felt vulnerable under Quinn’s intense gaze, her eyes staring holes into Rachel as she looked her up and down. Then, her eyes flashed suddenly, and Quinn shrugged her Cheerio jacket off.

“Here,” She said, handing the jacket to Rachel. “Put this on. You must be freezing.”

Rachel took the jacket while Quinn took her sweater from her and started running it under the sink. Watching her curiously, Rachel slipped the jacket on, the sleeves falling just past her wrists. Quinn wrung the sweater out, laid it on top of the sink, and turned around to look at Rachel. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her, and Rachel’s heart flipped in her chest when Quinn licked her lips. 

“Yeah, that’s…” Quinn trailed off, shaking away whatever thoughts were running through her head. “I’m gonna run and grab you a shirt from my locker. Wait here.”

Quinn darted off before Rachel could say anything. The bell for class rang, signalling that they were both officially late, and Rachel sighed. Hopefully, her teacher would understand. 

(Back when she was getting slushied on the daily, her teachers wouldn’t even bat an eye when Rachel walked into class ten minutes late with damp hair.)

Rachel spun to look at herself in the mirror, and she gasped as she took in her appearance. Her hair was curling more, absolutely ruining the time she had spent straightening it that morning. The Cheerios jacket rested easily on her shoulders, unbuttoned, with just her black bra underneath it. Her black skirt, thankfully, had been spared. 

Her eyes kept falling back to the Cheerios jacket around her, and Rachel shivered at the sight of it. She had worn Finn’s letterman once when they were together, but it was huge and smelly and didn’t feel right on her skin. But seeing herself in Quinn’s jacket was a completely different experience. It was just slightly too big on her, and it smelled like vanilla, and the material was soft and warm on her cold skin. She couldn’t deny the appeal no matter how hard she tried. 

Then, Quinn returned, holding a plain white t-shirt and washcloth. She paused when she walked in, looking at Rachel again, eyes flashing with something Rachel couldn’t quite identify, before she handed the items to her and grabbed Rachel’s sweater from the sink. Wordlessly, Quinn moved to the hand dryer and proceeded to dry her sweater off using the heat from the dryer. 

Rachel was stunned. She slipped the jacket off and put the t-shirt on, tucking it into her skirt. She watched as Quinn attempted to dry her sweater, focused intently on the task at hand, and Rachel set the jacket on top of her backpack and went to finish cleaning off her face and hair. 

Besides the running water and the hand dryer, it was silent. A comfortable silence. Rachel wasn’t used to silence, but she found she didn’t mind it as much with Quinn. It was as if the comfort of her presence was enough to quell any intrinsic need to make conversation.

When Quinn finished, she walked to Rachel and handed her the sweater, enclosed in a zip lock bag. “It’s not completely dry yet,” She explained, “But I did the best I could.”

“It’s alright. Thank you, Quinn.” Rachel said. Quinn was heading toward the door when Rachel simply asked, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Quinn stopped in her tracks. She looked over her shoulder at Rachel and met her eyes. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

Quinn walked out, and Rachel watched her go, confused as ever. Her Cheerio jacket was still sitting atop Rachel’s backpack, and Rachel felt the overwhelming urge to put it on. So she did. She put on the jacket, gave herself a once over in the mirror, and left for class.

(She wore it for the rest of the day and then some.)

* * *

The next day, Rachel brought the jacket to school, intending on returning it to Quinn, but she wasn’t gonna lie and say that she didn’t want to give it back. Wearing it all day yesterday had been quite the experience.

At first, she’d gotten weird looks from people. People had stared at her, dug holes into her with their eyes, trying to figure out why the hell Rachel Berry was walking down the halls wearing a Cheerio jacket. But, after the initial shock wore off, people parted ways as she walked down the hall. She had seen it happen countless times for Quinn and some other popular Cheerios, but it was such a strange thing to see people step aside as she walked by rather than shoulder past her. It held a certain power, wearing that jacket, and Rachel couldn’t deny the appeal of it. She liked the status it carried, and as the day had gone on, she was sure people had figured out that it was Quinn’s.

Now, as she arrived at school knowing she would part ways with the jacket, she had to admit that she was upset. But she probably shouldn’t just not return it because, well, that would be rude.

She made it all the way to her locker before she heard the news.

“Did you hear Karofsky got suspended?” Rachel heard someone say behind her. Ever the eavesdropper, she zoned in on the voices behind her, blocking out the extraneous noises in the hallway.

“Yeah,” Someone responded, “They’re saying it was because of that slushie he threw at that Berry girl yesterday.”

Rachel gasped and stormed off to find Quinn. Luckily, she found her quickly, in the same bathroom that they had been in yesterday. It was empty except for one girl washing her hands at the sink, and she fled the room after Quinn so much as looked at her.

She held so much power, Rachel realized, and the Cheerio jacket was just an extension of that power.

“Can I help you?” Quinn asked calmly.

“Did you get Karofsky–No, I _know_ you got Karofsky suspended.” Rachel corrected herself, watching Quinn’s face drop. “How did you do that?”

Putting on a mask of indifference, Quinn said, “I went to talk to Mr. Figgins, and when that didn’t work, I had Coach Sylvester pull some strings.”

Rachel’s jaw dropped. “You did all of that… for me?”

Quinn’s façade dropped, her cheeks turning red, and she said, “I guess, yeah.”

“Well, thank you. Again.” Rachel replied. “Oh, here’s your jacket.”

She pulled the jacket out from her backpack to give it to Quinn, but Quinn didn't take it.

“Keep it.” She said.

Rachel was struck speechless. Quinn wanted her to keep the jacket? Like, _keep_ keep? To have and to hold, until death do them part?

Maybe that was a bit dramatic, but Rachel truly couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea that Quinn wanted her to keep her jacket.

“Why?” Rachel asked.

“So people know you’re off limits.” Quinn explained before her eyes widened at the implication. “I mean, for slushies and name-calling and stuff. So people don’t mess with you.”

The implied “because then they’ll have to deal with me” was not lost on Rachel. She took a step toward Quinn, and, without thinking, she reached out to hug her. Quinn didn’t move at first, and Rachel was about to pull back and apologize when Quinn slowly placed her arms around Rachel’s back. It was an awkward hug, for sure, but Rachel couldn’t deny the pleasure she got from it. 

As Quinn let go and started to step back from her, Rachel quickly leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. It was instinctual; she didn’t even realize what was happening until she stepped back and watched Quinn’s expression morph into one of awe, her face flushing instantly.

Rachel smiled at her pink cheeks, a harsh contrast to the usual stone cold look on her face, and decided that she liked to see it, and she would do anything she could to see more of it.

“Thanks again, Quinn. I’ll see you at Glee later.” Rachel said coyly, walking toward the door.

She slipped the jacket on over her shirt and chanced one last glance at Quinn. The girl was frozen in place, her hand touching the cheek that Rachel’s lips had been on moments ago, and she blushed harder when she noticed Rachel staring, quickly dropping her hand. Rachel chuckled and gave her a little wave before walking out the door.

As Rachel walked through the halls, she felt invincible, all of which she knew had to do with the jacket around her shoulders and the girl it belonged to.


	7. day 7: halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 7! Pretend I'm on PST and that it isn't already almost 2 AM where I live. Anyway, Quinn and Rachel dress up as characters from Wicked for Halloween.
> 
> Go read Chapter Seven of the thirty day challenge from sorryforthedead for a sort-of sequel to this! (And then read all of the rest because they are all great.)

“I know what we’re gonna be for Halloween this year!”

Quinn smiles at the excitement in her girlfriend’s voice. She stares at Rachel’s face on her computer screen, glad they had time to facetime today, but sad that she couldn’t be with her. It was always like this, though. This is their second year of doing the long distance thing, and she hates not getting to see her girlfriend every day, but it’s worth it. Rachel is worth it.

“Oh, do you?” Quinn teases. By the tone in Rachel’s voice, she knows her mind is already made up, and there’s no way Quinn could convince her to change her mind. (Not that she would ever dream of it, but in theory, of course.)

Last year, at Rachel’s request (read: insistence), they had gone as Marius and Cosette from Les Misérables. Quinn hadn’t minded, mostly because she was still on a high from the fact that she was actually dating Rachel Berry after all these years and because Les Mis is one of her favorite books. But, this year, Quinn knows Rachel has something clever up her sleeve if the mischievous grin on her face is any indication.

“I do, indeed. Would you like to hear my brilliant idea?” Rachel asks.

Quinn sighs. “Does it involve me dressing up as a man again?”

Rachel frowns. “Well, no. Not this year, at least. Or next year, actually.”

“This year?” Quinn says, “Does this mean you have our costumes picked out for the next several years?”

It doesn’t surprise Quinn in the slightest that Rachel just smiles a guilty little smile and diverts, saying, “Do you want to know, or do you just want to be surprised when you come visit in two weeks?”

That is the last thing she wants, so Quinn replies, “I would love to know, baby.”

“This year for Halloween, we are going to be, drumroll please,” Rachel pauses, and Quinn rolls her eyes at her girlfriend’s antics but still taps lightly on her thighs to create a drumroll. Rachel grins and announces, “Elphaba and Glinda!”

Quinn stops tapping. She looks at Rachel’s over-the-moon expression on her screen, and she knows they’re doing this, no matter what Quinn has to say about it. She can’t even make the argument that they weren’t actually a couple because the subtext was off the charts. At least it’s from another show based on a book, one Quinn has read at Rachel’s insistence, and at least Quinn doesn’t have to dress up as a man again. She’ll count her blessings.

“I can’t wait, baby."

* * *

A week later, Quinn receives a very ominous text from Rachel.

It reads, _MAC Chromacake Landscape Green._

What this means, Quinn has no idea, but the follow-up message she receives shortly thereafter gives her a little bit of a hint. 

_For Halloween._

Fifteen minutes later, she’s arriving at the MAC Cosmetics in Milford, Connecticut to purchase the makeup. She walks in, and she’s taken aback by the modernity and sleekness of the building. Quinn knows instantly that she won’t be able to find a damn thing in this store by herself, so, begrudgingly, she approaches one of the workers.

“Hi,” She says, “I’m looking for the, uh, Chromacake?” 

She hates how uncertain she sounds, but she really wants to get in and out rather than spending the next hour roaming around the store like an idiot. Luckily, the employee just silently leads her to the correct section of the store, and Quinn mutters her thanks as her eyes scan the selection of colors before her, looking for the correct one. 

The bright green sticks out like a sore thumb. Quinn reads the label, _Landscape Green,_ and grabs it from the shelf to check the price. The small container is nearly thirty dollars, and Quinn groans at the idea of spending this much money on a product to turn her girlfriend green for a Halloween costume.

Still, she goes to check out, and the cashier scans the container and asks, “This for a costume?” Quinn raises an eyebrow, and the cashier explains, “Every now and then, someone comes in looking for this exact product for some sort of witch costume?”

Quinn just laughs and says, “Yeah, something like that.”

She pays for the makeup and leaves the store, bag in hand. She didn’t quite buy all the makeup that MAC can make, but she did buy one product that will certainly turn her girlfriend into who she so desperately desires to be.

(Quinn would say that it would turn her from pretty to unpretty, but she knows, even with all of this green makeup on, Rachel will still be gorgeous.)

* * *

One more week later, Quinn is in New York with Rachel. It’s a Friday, it’s Halloween, and Quinn is currently turning her girlfriend into the Wicked Witch of the West.

What a life she’s living.

“How do I look?” Rachel asks after five minutes of Quinn applying the green makeup to her hands and upper chest. 

“You look…” Quinn trails off, trying to decide on the right word, landing on, “Green.”

“Like a froggy, ferny cabbage?” Rachel says.

“What?”

“It’s a lyric from–Nevermind. It looks good, though?”

Quinn smiles. “Yeah, Rach, you look positively _wicked_.”

Rachel shakes her head in amusement as Quinn finishes up the makeup on her chest and moves up to her neck. There’s a lot of moments in Quinn’s life when she remembers that she’s actually dating Rachel Berry; this is certainly one of those moments. Applying green makeup to Rachel’s neck, Quinn laughs at the idea of telling her younger self, who longed to date Rachel for years before it actually happened, that this was a part of the Dating Rachel Berry package.

Though she knows her former self wouldn’t mind the idea in the slightest.

She finishes her neck and begins applying the green makeup to Rachel’s face, eliciting an excited squeal from her girlfriend. Quinn knows this is fulfilling so many of Rachel’s dreams right now, and she only hopes that she can do it justice. Although, by the elated look on Rachel’s face, Quinn’s sure that Rachel will be overjoyed no matter what the outcome.

And she’s right. When Quinn is completely done, Rachel takes one look at herself in the mirror and nearly screams with excitement. She tackles Quinn in a hug, and Quinn hugs her back, hoping that none of her work from the past thirty minutes gets ruined. Luckily, the makeup stays perfectly intact, and Quinn excuses herself to go curl her hair and do her own makeup.

Forty minutes later, Quinn walks back into Rachel’s bedroom to find her girlfriend fully adorned in the long, black dress, black tights and boots, and black witch hat atop her head. Her hair falls around her shoulders, she has a massive grin on her face, and Quinn thinks she’s the cutest little green witch she’s ever seen.

“What do you think?” Rachel asks, spinning around in all of her green glory.

“I think we need to have a celebration throughout Oz that’s all to do with you.” Quinn recites.

“I love you and the fact that you know those lyrics.” Rachel grins and steps forward to kiss Quinn. 

Quinn kisses her briefly, as not to ruin her makeup, and puts on the blue dress that was laying across the bed. It’s oddly reminiscent of her junior year prom dress, the color and the way it fans out around her waist. When she picks up the tiara laying on the bed, Quinn feels like she’s seen it somewhere before. Then, she realizes.

“Rachel?” Quinn says, and Rachel spins around to look at her. “Is this your tiara from when you won Prom Queen?”

“You mean when you _gave_ me Prom Queen?” Rachel corrects her, “And, yes, it is. I thought it would be a nice relic from our past.”

“How did you even find this?” Quinn says, stunned.

Rachel looks down guiltily. “I… may have made my dads search the house for it and then had them mail it to me.”

Quinn can’t believe her girlfriend’s antics. Actually, she can, but it’s amusing nonetheless. She puts the tiara on her head, fixes her hair in the mirror, and turns to Rachel.

Rachel grins. “You make such a good Glinda, baby. You know, this reminds me a lot of what you wore to prom junior year.”

Quinn nods in agreement. “And you remind me of Mike Wazowski.”

“Quinn!”

“Kidding! Rachel, we look great.” Quinn placates her.

“Perfect!” Rachel exclaims. “We’re gonna be a hit. I just know it.”

* * *

They are, evidently, not a hit.

They arrive at Santana and Brittany’s apartment, expecting rapturous applause (or at least Rachel was), but they are met with little to no fanfare. Santana is the first one to see them, and Quinn laughs out loud at what her friend is wearing.

“You look ridiculous.” Quinn smirks at Santana, adorned in a costume of a purple converse shoe.

“Like you’re one to talk, Miss Glinda the Good Bitch.” Santana retorts. She tries to cross her arms across her chest but fails when her costume gets in the way, and Quinn bursts out laughing.

Rachel pouts. “Do we not look good? I think we look amazing!”

“Ignore her, Rach.” Quinn says, “We look great.”

Brittany walks up in a matching shoe costume to Santana’s, looking far more excited about it than her girlfriend does. “You guys look so good!” She shouts, handing them each a shot.

“Thanks, Britt.” Quinn says.

“Yes, thank you, Brittany. And you and Santana look spectacular as well!” Rachel says excitedly.

“Yeah, shoe-pendous.” Quinn smirks, dodging Santana when she reaches out to slap her across the arm.

They down their shots, handing the glasses back to Brittany, and walk around the party. Hours pass, drinks are consumed, and, by the end of the night, Rachel’s starting to sweat off her makeup, and Quinn wants nothing more than to get out of this dress.

At some point, Rachel walks into the middle of the living room and gives an (unwelcome) impromptu performance of _No Good Deed_ that has most of the party guests in various states of confusion. Quinn, however, sits on the couch and soaks in her performance, applauding loudly and giving her a fierce kiss when she finishes. Then, Rachel drags her to the front of the room, and, before she knows it, they’re singing a duet of _What is this Feeling_? together. 

(Little does she know, Santana records the entire thing as prime blackmail material for the future.)

They make it back to Rachel (and Jesse’s) apartment, relatively unscathed, and Quinn helps Rachel take off the rest of her makeup that she hasn’t already sweat off. Once they’re both de-greened and de-Glinda-fied, they throw on some pajamas and climb into bed, far too tipsy and exhausted to consider doing anything more than that. 

Quinn lays behind Rachel, throwing an arm around her and pulling her tightly against herself. Rachel snuggles closer as Quinn kisses her temple.

“You know,” Quinn whispers, “You really have changed me for the better, Rachel Berry.”

Rachel smiles and turns her head to meet Quinn’s eyes. “I have?”

Quinn just smiles in return. “Yes, baby. I might even go so far as to say that I have been changed for good.”

Rachel presses a soft kiss to her lips and mumbles an “I love you” before she drifts off into slumber.

Quinn drifts off shortly thereafter, dreaming of the Emerald City and of New York and how, someday, she’ll be here, sharing her life with Rachel for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now go read chapter seven of "can we always be this close (forever and ever)" by sorryforthedead !


	8. day 8: shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've made it to Day 8! And we are once again going to pretend that it isn't past midnight where I live. This takes place pre-season one, ideally in the same universe as the first couple episodes, if not more. Rachel sees Quinn four times. Hope you enjoy!

The first time Rachel sees her is at the store.

She starts high school in two weeks, and she’s out shopping for school supplies with her dads when she sees her for the first time. A blonde girl, about her age, with glasses and a small white piece of cotton taped to her nose, for what Rachel assumes is some sort of splint. She’s wearing a casual, pale blue dress with sandals, and, for whatever reason, Rachel can’t seem to take her eyes off of her.

She’s shocked that she doesn’t recognize her. Having lived in Lima her entire life, Rachel has gone to school with the same group of kids since kindergarten. She knows everyone around her age, or at least knows _of_ them. After all, it isn’t very often that new people arrive in Lima. 

But Rachel knows this girl must be new to town. She knows she would have remembered a face like that because, wow, she is pretty. Her face is obstructed by the tape on her nose, but Rachel can still see that she is extremely pretty, in a classy way that Rachel simply is not.

(It gives her a tingly feeling in her stomach that she decides to ignore.)

The girl is there with a woman who Rachel assumes is her mother, and they are standing at the end of the aisle that Rachel is currently in. She nudges her dads and nods over at the girl and her mom; her dads glance in their direction and share a look that Rachel’s fourteen-year-old brain can’t quite understand.

“You know her, Rachel?” Hiram asks.

“No,” Rachel says, “I think she’s new. Can I go say hi?”

They share another look before Leroy says, “Yes, but I’ll come with you.”

Hiram stays behind as Rachel and Leroy walk over to the end of the aisle. Rachel watches the girl pick a couple spiral notebooks from the rack and place them in their cart. She hesitates for a moment and then grabs a small composition notebook and sneaks it into the cart when her mom(?) isn’t looking. Rachel smiles to herself at the action and walks up to her.

“Hello,” Rachel greets, “I’m Rachel Berry. Are you new to town?”

The girl looks surprised, and a light blush paints her cheeks. “Hi. Yeah, I am. I’m Lu–Quinn. My name’s Quinn.”

Rachel grins at the sound of her voice and the delicate, musical quality it carries with it. “That’s a pretty name. How old are you?”

“Thanks. I’m fourteen.” Quinn smiles shyly at the compliment, and Rachel thinks it’s the prettiest smile she’s ever seen.

“Me too! Are you going to be a freshman this year?” Rachel says excitedly. Quinn nods in response, and Rachel asks, “Do you have your schedule? I have mine memorized already, and I could see if we have any classes together, and—”

“Rachel, sweetheart, let the girl settle in. She just moved here.” Leroy interrupts, laughing a bit and reaching his hand out to the woman standing next to Quinn. “I’m Leroy, Rachel’s dad.”

The woman shakes his hand. “Judy. I’m Quinnie’s mom.”

Quinn’s cheeks flush at the nickname, and Rachel can’t stop herself from saying, “You’re really pretty.”

Rachel slaps her hands over her mouth, embarrassed, and Leroy just laughs at her. Quinn blushes even harder as Judy lights up at the compliment. Rachel knows she has no filter sometimes, and she really needs to work on it, but she thinks that the smile currently gracing Quinn’s face made it worth it, at least this time.

Still, Rachel goes to say, “I’m sorry. I’m sure you get that all of the time, and I’m sure there’s a lot more to you than your looks, and I shouldn’t have said that, especially as burgeoning teenage girls with all sorts of self-esteem issues heading our way, but—”

This time, Quinn is the one to interrupt her rambling. “It’s okay, Rachel. Thank you.”

“Of course.” Rachel says. “I like the colors of the notebooks you picked out. Pink is my favorite.”

Her comment draws their attention to the shopping cart, and Judy picks up the composition notebook curiously. “What's this, Quinnie? I didn’t see it on the list.”

Quinn looks nervous, like she’s just been caught doing something she shouldn’t have, and Rachel steps in before she can even figure out why she’s doing so. “It’s for English class," She lies, "We were all sent an email to get one because they forgot to add it to the list this year.”

Hesitating briefly, Judy accepts her lie with a nod, putting the notebook back into the cart, and Quinn sighs with relief. Rachel relishes in the reassured look on Quinn’s face, knowing she said the right thing. Then, Quinn’s eyes focus on something behind her, and Rachel turns to see what she’s looking at.

“Do you know that man back there?” Quinn asks her.

“Well, yes.” Rachel says, “That’s my dad, Hiram.”

Quinn looks confused as she gestures to Leroy, asking, “I thought this is your dad?”

“They’re both my dads.” Rachel explains. “I have two fathers.”

A look passes over Judy’s face. “What did you say your name was, again?”

“Berry, ma’am.” Leroy answers, his face hardening slightly.

Judy simply nods. “Right, yes,” She says, “Quinnie, we should get going. Don’t want to be here all day.”

Quinn is led away by her mom before Rachel can say anything else to her. Sighing, she turns around and walks back to her dad.

“And?” Hiram asks.

“Her name is Quinn, she’s my age, and she seems really nice.” Rachel tells him with a smile.

Hiram eyes Leroy before saying, “That’s good, sweetie. Maybe you can be friends.”

“I hope so.”

* * *

The second time she sees her is on their first day of school. 

Rachel’s pleased to see Quinn walk into her first period Honors English class on the first day, and she’s even more pleased when Quinn smiles at her and sits next to her. She’s wearing a Cheerios uniform, the school cheerleading team, and Rachel is shocked.

“Hi, Quinn,” Rachel greets, “I didn’t realize you were a cheerleader.”

Quinn shrugs. “I went to bootcamp last week, and I had fun and made some friends.”

“Well, that’s good. So you’re settling in okay?” Rachel asks, remembering her daddy’s words from the store two weeks ago.

Quinn shrugs again. “I guess you could say that.”

“I’m glad.” Rachel says honestly.

The warning bell rings, and Rachel is moving to pull out her notebook and multicolored pens when Quinn says, “Rachel?”

Rachel looks up at her. “Yeah?”

“I just… want to say thank you. For the thing at the store with the notebook. I just…” Quinn trails off, trying to find the right words, and Rachel watches her closely. “I like to write. And my parents don’t know, or don’t care, or don’t let me, or whatever. So, I just… thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Quinn.”

The final bell rings, and Rachel turns her attention to the front of the class, not missing the smile that is currently lighting up Quinn’s face.

* * *

The third time she sees her is later that day.

Rachel is walking to grab her lunch when she sees Quinn standing at her locker. She passes up her own locker and walks right up to Quinn instead.

“Hi!”

Quinn startles at her voice. “Rachel, hi.”

“How is your first day going? Finding all of your classes okay?” Rachel asks.

Quinn nods. “Yeah, I am.”

Then, Santana and Brittany walk up to them, both wearing Cheerios uniforms as well, and Rachel resists the urge to roll her eyes. Santana has been a royal pain in her ass for years, and she has never been able to understand why the girl hates her so much. Brittany, on the other hand, has always been kind to her, but never when Santana is around. And, these days, the two are pretty much inseparable.

“Quinn, what are you doing talking to her?” Santana asks, heavy traces of malice in her voice.

“I-I, um…” Quinn stutters.

Rachel senses her discomfort and answers Santana, simply saying, “Science project. We’re lab partners.”

Santana scoffs. “Bullshit. On the first day? Yeah, right.” She eyes Quinn. “We don’t talk to the troll, Fabray.”

Rachel watches Quinn’s face go from confusion to realization to mild contempt, and Rachel’s hopeful for a moment that Quinn will side with her over Santana.

Instead, Quinn says, “Right, yeah,” and shuts her locker in Rachel’s face. She walks away with Santana and Brittany, and Rachel’s heart aches inside of her chest.

* * *

The fourth time she sees Quinn is five seconds later when Rachel has just been hit in the face with her first slushie, and she turns around to see Quinn laughing with the rest of the crowd that had gathered around to watch it happen.

* * *

Later that day, Rachel’s sitting at the dinner table with her dads when they ask her how her first day of school went.

“I saw Quinn,” is the first thing to come out of her mouth, and Rachel’s cheeks flush.

“Oh, did you?” Hiram asks. “How is she?"

“She’s… she’s good.” 

“Is she settling in okay?” Leroy says.

Rachel nods. “Yes, she is. She’s, um, she’s on the Cheerios.” She explains, intentionally leaving out the incident in the hallway today. She doesn’t want her dads to have to worry about stuff like that, especially on her first day.

“Good for her.” Hiram comments.

Leroy nods and says, “Rachel, there’s something you should know.” Rachel meets his eyes, and he continues, “I work with Quinn’s dad. He started at our company at the beginning of the summer, and I’ve seen pictures of his wife and daughters before, so I knew who they were when we saw them at the store.”

Rachel’s confused. “Okay? What does this have to do with anything?”

Frowning, Leroy just shakes his head. “He’s… not a great man, baby girl. He’s made several homophobic remarks around me, once or twice directly to my face, and he’s an outspoken Catholic, and he’s openly claimed to support the NRA and some other not great organizations.”

Rachel gasps at the idea of Quinn having this man as her father. “What does this mean?”

Leroy sighs. “I just don’t think it’s the best idea for you to get too close to this Quinn girl. She seems sweet, but it might be best to keep your distance, at least until you learn more about her and see what she’s really like.”

Rachel frowns at the idea, but she simply nods and continues to eat her dinner.

That night, Rachel lies in bed, thinking about the Quinn she met at the store and the Quinn that laughed at Rachel getting a slushie thrown in her face. How had she changed that quickly? And now her dads wanted her to keep her distance?

 _No,_ Rachel thinks. She’s not going to do that. The Quinn she met at the store was not the girl she saw today, and Rachel is going to do everything in her power to get that Quinn back.


	9. day 9: hanging out with friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 9! Again, we're gonna pretend it's still the same day and not 4 AM when I'm posting this. It's New Year's Eve with the gang, and Rachel and Quinn are the only non-couple out of their friends, and Rachel proposes an idea to Quinn. Enjoy!

Quinn loves her friends.

Well, that’s pretty much a given, or she wouldn’t be friends with them, but she thinks that she loves her friends more than the average human enjoys spending time with her friends. She also can’t stand them at most times, but that’s normal, right?

Quinn likes to think so.

She adores spending time with her own little Scooby Gang. Whenever they can all get together, that is. With her and Sam in New Haven and the rest in New York, she’s often left feeling rather isolated from them. She has Sam, of course, and he truly has become one of her closest friends, but she often finds herself wishing that the distance wasn’t as far as it was. The two hour train ride isn’t exactly a full-day’s trip, but it also isn’t the twenty minute walk between her friends’ apartments in Manhattan. (Plus, she could use a break from just hanging out with Sam all of the time.)

So, on days like these, when they get to take the train to New York to celebrate New Year’s Eve with their friends, Quinn counts herself lucky. Of course, then they arrive at Rachel and Jesse’s apartment, and Quinn remembers how much she abhors these people.

The minute they walk through the door, Sam is off to find his boyfriend (of six months), and Quinn is left standing by herself in the entryway to the apartment. She kicks her shoes off and picks up Sam’s duffel that he had dropped at her feet, moving it out of the way. She carries her own bag to Rachel’s room, where she usually sleeps when they stay here rather than at Santana and Brittany’s place, and finds the aforementioned couple making out against the wall on her way there. 

Quinn mutters, “Hey, guys,” at them as she walks past, and Santana just throws a hand up and waves her off. Quinn moves on, having expected nothing less, and knocks on Rachel’s door before slowly stepping in. Not seeing her, Quinn fully enters the room and sets her bag down in the corner. She hears familiar humming and the sound of footsteps coming closer, and Quinn smiles, knowing it’s Rachel that’s approaching.

Rachel, Quinn can truly and honestly say, is her best friend. They certainly had their rough times in high school, but after two and a half years of growing close during college, she has become Quinn’s closest friend.

And Quinn’s gigantic, steaming hot crush on her surely doesn’t detract from that.

Quinn sits down on the bed and looks towards the door to see Rachel walk in, wearing only a bathrobe, drying her hair with a towel, clearly having just gotten out of the shower.

(Speaking of Quinn’s steaming hot crush.)

When Rachel sees Quinn, she gasps, dropping the towel and clutching the top of her robe. “Quinn!”

Quinn’s cheeks flush as she giggles and says, “Hi, Rach.”

“I didn’t know you were here already,” Rachel explains, “What time is it?”

“Just after five.”

Rachel’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, wow. I must have been in the shower longer than I thought. Are Brittany and Santana here? Where’s Sam?”

Rachel steps further into the room, and Quinn stands up from the bed, respectfully turning her back as Rachel moves to, well, put some clothes on. She says, “Santana and Brittany are here. Last I checked they were making out against every surface of the apartment.”

“Not surprising.” Rachel comments.

“Yeah, right,” Quinn laughs, “And Sam ran off to find Jesse as soon as we got here, so I just came in here.”

“Also not surprising.” Rachel says. “You know you’re more than welcome in here whenever you need a break from those four.”

“And you know I appreciate that.” Quinn replies.

It’s silent for a moment, and then Rachel asks, “Can you come help me with this necklace?”

Quinn slowly spins around, hand half-covering her eyes only to remove it when she sees that Rachel is fully clothed. Rachel shakes her head at her, clearly amused, as Quinn walks to her and grabs the necklace.

It’s the one that Quinn had gotten Rachel for her birthday just two weeks ago, and the sight of it makes Quinn smile.

She grabs the necklace, loops it around Rachel’s neck, and stands behind her to do the clasp. As she lets the necklace go, she watches Rachel adjust it in the mirror in front of them before she looks up to meet her eyes. Quinn blushes at having been caught staring at her, and Rachel just smiles, spinning around and throwing her arms around Quinn’s shoulders. She hugs her back, gently placing her arms behind Rachel’s back and pulling their bodies closer, into a more reverent hug. 

“Hi, again.” Rachel says, making Quinn laugh.

“Hi, again, to you too.”

In these moments, Quinn can’t help but picture them together, as a couple. How can she not, especially when she’s hugging Rachel so closely and when their friend group consists of two other couples and then Quinn and Rachel? But her imagination is often brought back to reality fairly quickly when Rachel mentions some boy in her acting class, or her ex-boyfriend, Brody, or anything else that reminds Quinn that Rachel is very much straight and very much not interested in her (lesbian) best friend.

They pull back from their hug, and Rachel grins mischievously. “Wanna go find our friends and stop them from making out, so we can hang out?”

Quinn just laughs and follows Rachel out of the room.

* * *

Later that night, the six of them are all sitting around the living room in various states of inebriation. The past hours had been spent eating, drinking, playing games, talking, drinking, singing, dancing, drinking, laughing, arguing, drinking. 

Did she mention that they had been drinking? 

Quinn, herself, is only on her second glass of wine, so she’s not nearly at the level of, say, Sam, who is nearly passed out on top of Jesse on the couch, but she’s certainly tipsy. She’s more careful with her alcohol these days, and she much prefers remembering the time she spends with her friends than not remembering. However, she has also been known to get blackout drunk at bars off-campus and stumble home, waking up Sam on multiple occasions; tonight, it seems, is just not one of those nights. She wants to enjoy these moments with her friends and keep the memories for years to come.

Her friends, on the other hand, are all having the times of their lives. 

Midnight is in fifteen minutes, and Quinn is in the kitchen, pouring the champagne into six plastic, dollar-store champagne flutes, when Rachel walks over. Quinn eyes her for a moment, decides she won’t be any sort of hazard, and continues her motions.

“Whatcha doin?” Rachel asks coyly.

“Pouring our champagne.” Quinn says, not looking up at her.

Rachel picks up the cup she’s currently pouring the liquid into and looks at it before downing the contents. It was only half-full, but Quinn laughs at the sight. 

“Rachel, those are for midnight!” She chastises, taking the cup from her hand. She fills it back up and pushes Rachel a few steps back from her.

Rachel, ever persistent, closes the distance between them, standing even closer to Quinn than she was before. Quinn ignores her brown eyes staring holes into her as she finishes filling up the glasses with champagne. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Rachel asks. 

Quinn nods, grabbing four of the glasses and walking to hand them to her friends. Rachel waits patiently in the kitchen until Quinn comes back and gives her her full attention.

“Yes?” Quinn says, grabbing her own champagne flute from the counter.

Rachel grins, whispering, “I think we should kiss at midnight.”

Quinn drops her cup, and it clatters onto the ground. The champagne spills at her feet, but she can’t find it in herself to care, her mind spinning with Rachel’s words. 

“You think we should _what_?”

“I think we should kiss at midnight.” Rachel repeats, eyebrows furrowing. “Is that not what I said the first time?”

“No, it is, I just…” Quinn trails off, not even knowing where to go from here. 

What does one say in this situation? Quinn has read a lot of self-help books, but none of them have ever covered this scenario before. 

“What?” Rachel asks, frowning. “Do you not think it’s a good idea?”

Quinn shakes her head. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why should we kiss?” Quinn elaborates, desperate to hear drunk Rachel’s thought process here.

“Oh,” Rachel explains, “Well, Santana and Brittany are obviously going to kiss since they are together, as are Sam and Jesse, and I find myself unfortunately single on this night, as do you,” Here, Quinn frowns, but Rachel continues, “So I figured it would be mutually beneficial to us both.”

Quinn stays silent as she runs all of this through her head. Rachel wants to kiss her at midnight… because they’re both single? Sure, this is exactly the perfect time for them to kiss, when they _are_ both single, but this isn’t how Quinn wants it to happen. Especially not as some drunken, forget-it-happened-by-the-morning situation. 

“I don’t think this is the best idea.” Quinn admits.

Rachel pouts. “Do you not want to kiss me?”

She knows Rachel is drunk, but the sound of her whining, upset at the thought of Quinn not wanting to kiss her, has Quinn’s insides doing somersaults. Of course she wants to kiss her. Of course she does. But Rachel doesn’t know that, and Rachel doesn’t need to know that. Rachel doesn’t need to know that Quinn wants to kiss her whenever they are together and has wanted to for years now.

Quinn sighs. “Rachel, I… Look, you’re drunk, and I don’t want you doing anything that you might regret in the morning. We don’t need a midnight kiss to prove anything to ourselves.”

Rachel frowns harder. “But I won’t regret it.”

“And how can you be sure of that?” Quinn counters.

“Because I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while.”

If Quinn was holding another glass of champagne, she’s sure she would have dropped it again.

Rachel wants to kiss her. Rachel has wanted to kiss her. For a while, whatever that even means. What does it mean?

“What do you mean?” Quinn asks, eyes searching Rachel’s for answers she so desperately seeks.

She hears her friends start to count down from the living room, and Rachel grabs her hand, pulling her over. “Come on, the countdown is starting!”

Quinn lets herself be pulled, Rachel’s words and the sensation of her hand grasping her own too much for her to handle. Rachel doesn't even have her glass of champagne; Quinn’s is still laying, empty, on the kitchen floor.

As the countdown nears zero, Quinn is staring at Rachel, wondering what the hell is about to happen. Midnight hits, the ball in Times Square drops, and her question is quickly met with the sound of cheering, shouts of “Happy New Year,” and Rachel’s lips on her own.

Quinn is frozen in place at the first touch of Rachel’s lips to hers. Her mind is spinning, insides turning, as Rachel kisses her, her eyes fluttering shut. For a moment, Quinn considers pulling away and calling it a night, not wanting this to escalate into something she’d regret. Then, she remembers Rachel’s words.

_Because I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while._

Fuck it.

Quinn tilts her head, parts her lips, and kisses Rachel back. She hears Rachel squeal as she presses further into her, her bottom lip sliding in between Quinn’s. They kiss, and they kiss, and they kiss; Rachel tastes like tequila and champagne and cherry lip gloss, and Quinn can’t get enough.

The feeling is indescribable. Whatever Quinn had previously imagined kissing Rachel Berry would feel like is thrown out the window at the overwhelming onset of emotions that flood her senses as she kisses her. 

When Rachel runs her tongue along Quinn’s lower lip, then slips it into her mouth, eliciting moans from them both? Screw fireworks; Quinn sees stars. She sees stars, bright, shining stars, that all remind her of Rachel and the fact that Quinn is actually kissing her right now.

Eventually, they both pull away, desperate for air. They’re both panting, foreheads pressed together, eyes locked on each other. It’s a moment Quinn will never forget, her eyes locked on Rachel’s as they both process what just happened.

“Holy shit.”

Quinn jerks her head back slightly, noticing all of their friends standing there and staring at them. The room is quiet, too quiet, before Jesse interrupts the silence.

“Alright, pay up.” He says.

Quinn’s confused as everyone sighs and goes into their wallets to grab what looks like twenty dollars each and hands the money to Jesse. Then, it dawns on her.

“You guys were betting on us?” Quinn accuses, and Rachel leans forward into her, wrapping an arm around her back and laughing into her neck.

“Uh, yeah.” Sam shrugs. “I thought it was gonna be Valentine’s Day.”

“I thought it was gonna be Rachel’s birthday when you gave her that necklace.” Brittany says.

Santana laughs, “And I was banking on you two not getting your shit together until the end of the school year, at least.”

Quinn glares at all of them, but when Rachel ignores their friends and coaxes her into another kiss, she is all too happy to comply. After all, who is she to deny Rachel such a simple pleasure?

(The next morning, Quinn wakes up, curled behind Rachel in bed, worrying that she forgot the whole thing ever happened. When Rachel turns over and presses a kiss to her lips, Quinn knows she didn’t, and she knows they’re gonna be alright.)


	10. day 10: jealousy/possessiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've made it to Day 10! We're 1/3 of the way through, how crazy is that? Here's five times that Quinn was possessive. This one goes out to Charlie.

_i._

Quinn Fabray has a problem.

She has always been a bit, say, _possessive_ over her things. It’s just in her nature. Even as a kid, Quinn, then Lucy, used to throw tantrums when her older sister would borrow her toys, even just for a few seconds. This isn’t anything new. What’s new is how this unwavering aspect of her personality manifests itself in her life as she grows older. And how it involves one Rachel Berry.

Quinn can’t stand her at most times, but she’s particularly bothered by her when Finn, all of a sudden, seems to take an interest in her and her stupid little club. She needs Finn. She needs him to make her parents happy, to keep her image and popularity up in school, to keep herself from having to deal with all of the conflicting thoughts running through her head that always end up revolving around one Rachel Berry. 

Because if she opens that can of worms, she’s never gonna be able to go back. Instead, she pushes those feelings down, ignores them. She distracts herself. She dates Finn. She joins the Celibacy Club. She focuses on cheer and her school work. And she tries everything, _everything_ she can to keep Finn away from Rachel and Glee Club.

She even offers to let him touch her breasts. Over the bra, of course. She’s desperate, but she’s not _that_ desperate.

When that doesn’t work, she tells him that everyone thinks he’s gay, which in turn makes everyone think Quinn, herself, is gay, too. Which cannot happen. It can’t. Not her with parents, not with her life, not with her situation. Under no circumstances can Quinn have people thinking that she is gay. Finn just shakes his head at her and walks away, and Quinn’s worries only grow. She has no clue how to get through to him.

When she notices that Rachel was listening to her conversation with Finn, Quinn can’t stop herself from calling her out on it.

“Eavesdrop, much?” She says snarkily, walking forward to stand directly in front of Rachel. 

Rachel closes her locker and meets her eyes, only looking slightly guilty, which makes Quinn even angrier.

“Time for some girl talk, man hands.” Quinn spits out, “You can dance with him, you can sing with him, but you will _never_ have him.”

She can’t get through to Finn, but maybe she can get through to Rachel. Quinn needs them both to understand that Finn will never be with Rachel. Never. Not if Quinn has anything to say about it.

“I understand why you’d be threatened,” Rachel replies, “Finn and I have made a connection, but I’m an honorable person.” At this, Quinn scoffs, but Rachel continues, “I don’t need to steal your man. I have plenty of suitors of my own.”

Quinn knows that is a lie, but she chooses to ignore it. She watches Rachel walk away, too satisfied with herself, and immediately get two slushies thrown in her face. Quinn laughs to herself.

Maybe this will keep Rachel away from Finn. Maybe. Or maybe Quinn will need to take matters into her own hands.

* * *

_ii._

A month later, Quinn has joined the Glee Club and is working her ass off to keep Finn and keep her pregnancy a secret at the same time. She feels him slipping away, which worries her because she still needs him. Her parents are eventually going to find out, and Quinn needs him to be there since she knows Puck sure as hell won’t be. 

And then there’s Rachel. Rachel Berry, the girl (still) constantly making moon-eyes at her boyfriend, the girl always singing duets with her boyfriend, the girl Quinn can’t seem to stop thinking about for even two seconds. She wants to blame it on the pregnancy hormones, so she does, but she knows in the back of her mind that there’s something deeper going on with herself than that.

But, like all bad things in her life, Quinn ignores those feelings. She fuels them into her anger, of which she has plenty these days.

After Rachel and Finn sing _No Air_ , Quinn has had enough. She finds Rachel in the hall the next day and confronts her.

“I don’t want to have a confrontation.” Rachel says, and Quinn's rage increases. 

How can she have the gall to say she doesn’t want a confrontation when she walks around everyday, obviously pining over Quinn’s boyfriend? Or when she throws herself at him? Or when she makes moon eyes at him during songs, or when she—

Quinn’s getting sidetracked. Long story short, she watches Rachel enough to know that they are long overdue for a confrontation.

“I’m having Finn’s baby,” Quinn declares, eyes shooting lasers into Rachel’s, “And you need to back off. I’m asking you as nicely as I can. Leave him alone.”

Rachel’s face goes neutral as she admits, “You’re right. I-I’ve helped you, not because it’s the right thing to do, but because I had romantic ulterior motives,” This makes Quinn’s heart skip a beat, but she ignores it. “But just so we’re clear, you’re the one who’s cheating.”

Rachel storms away. Quinn follows her, confused. Cheating? Did she know about Puck? “Excuse me?”

They’re walking down the hall, and Rachel accuses her of being a mole for Coach Sylvester. While it is true, Quinn denies it. Because, honestly, it’s not the real reason she joined the Glee Club. An added bonus, sure, but she joined the club to keep an eye on Rachel. And Finn. 

Both of them, of course. Not just Rachel.

“Can you imagine what she’s gonna do once she finds out about your situation?” Rachel says, unknowingly hitting on one of Quinn’s worst fears. “She’ll probably try to rip off your uniform with her bare hands.”

At this statement, Quinn’s mind falls into the gutter for a brief moment, imagining her uniform being ripped off by small, soft, decidedly non-man-like hands, and—

Focus, Quinn! 

She’s arguing with Rachel Berry. About her _boyfriend_. In the middle of the hall. Why is her mind going to these places? 

She tunes back into Rachel’s rambling just to hear her say, “Oh, and I’d practice a little more because you obviously have a lot you need to express.”

Quinn scoffs. “Oh, you have _no_ idea.”

She doesn’t even know the half of it.

* * *

_iii._

This time, it’s years later. Three, to be exact. Long gone are her days of fighting over boys with Rachel (and thinking about boys in general). 

High school was hell for Quinn. Hell on Earth, most of the time. But she survived, somehow, and she made it out, relatively unscathed. And, now, she’s happily away at college, at Yale, of all places, and she’s truly never been more comfortable with herself and with her life.

For the first time in a long time, Quinn can say that she’s happy. Or, at least the closest thing to happy that she’s been in a while. And, unsurprisingly, a lot of said happiness has to do with one Rachel Berry.

She’s a constant in Quinn’s life, it seems. This past summer, they grew close after the (rather bold) declaration that Quinn wanted to make sure that they kept in touch. They spent a lot of time together, learning about each other and becoming much closer than Quinn had anticipated, and she’s sure Rachel feels the same way. But she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Quickly, Rachel became her best friend. When they parted ways in August to go to college, it was with the clear intent that they would make good use of the Metro North passes that Quinn spent no less than a fortune on.

So, here Quinn is, just over a month into the school year, visiting Rachel in New York for the first time. Rachel had come to New Haven just two weeks ago, and Quinn had a blast showing her around campus and introducing her to her roommate and the (few) friends she had made in some of her classes. Now, Quinn is with Rachel, in New York, and she’s going to meet Rachel’s roommate, Kelsey.

Kelsey, Quinn quickly observes, is a short girl with dirty blonde hair and an immense passion (and talent, apparently) for dance. Her bubbly personality is infectious, almost to the point where it gets on Quinn’s nerves, and she’s oddly reminded of Brittany in that way. Except Brittany never bothered Quinn. Kelsey, on the other hand… Well, let’s just say that Quinn’s glad that she isn’t roommates with her.

Rachel, however, adores having her as a roommate. She’s so glad that she ended up with someone whose personality matches hers so well, Rachel tells her, and that she couldn’t have asked for a better person to become friends with.

Something inside of Quinn stirs at her comments, and she quickly recognizes the feeling. It’s the same feeling she would get when Rachel was with Finn, or Puck, or even Jesse. It’s the same feeling she used to get when Rachel would sing a love song and make heart eyes at Finn the entire time. 

She’s jealous, Quinn realizes. She’s jealous of this adoration Rachel has for her roommate, and she’s jealous of her roommate for getting to spend so much time with her. She’s jealous of Kelsey for becoming friends with Rachel so quickly when it took Quinn nearly three years to even consider Rachel her friend because of her own stupid issues.

And then it dawns on her: she was jealous of Finn in high school. She was jealous of him for getting Rachel’s attention, so she dated him to keep him away from her. Because if she couldn’t have Rachel’s attention, then no one could.

Wow.

Where does Quinn go from here?

Later, when the three of them are sitting on Rachel’s bed, watching a movie on her laptop, Quinn can’t keep herself from loosely slinging an arm around Rachel’s shoulders, conscious of Kelsey sitting on the other side of her. It is instinctual, the action, but Quinn knows she's trying to prove a point to herself. And Rachel helps prove her point as she instantly leans into Quinn when she puts her arm around her.

Then, when Quinn jokes at the train station that Rachel better not forget about her and replace her with Kelsey, Rachel just shakes her head and says, “As if I could ever replace you,” and her heart skips a beat. Before she knows it, she’s pressing a kiss to Rachel’s lips, so quick that neither of them can even process it before Quinn runs onto the train just as it pulls out of the station.

(Hours later, Quinn opens her door to find Rachel standing there, looking just as she had left her at the train station. Before she can say anything, Rachel leans forward and kisses her, and Quinn has never felt happier.)

* * *

_iv._

Dating Rachel Berry has been the greatest gift in Quinn’s life.

It’s crazy for her to think back to sophomore year of high school and how boy-crazy she was, or had seemed, when really she was just harboring a massive crush on Rachel the entire time. Of course, Quinn regrets the awfully cruel things she said and did during that time and has apologized for them profusely, but she’s also made her peace with the past, knowing that she needed those experiences in order for her to become who she is today.

And who she is today is an open (and proud) lesbian who is extremely in love with her girlfriend.

Turns out she _was_ Finn’s big, gay beard after all.

Today, Quinn is proud to be out with Rachel and their friends for Rachel’s twenty-first birthday, and she’s coming back from a quick trip to the bathroom when she sees something that makes her blood boil.

Rachel is sitting at the bar while Kurt and Jesse are sitting back at their table, and she’s talking to some guy Quinn has never seen before. The man is obviously flirting with her; Quinn can see it from a mile away. She knows Rachel is her own independent woman, of course, so Quinn doesn’t try to interfere or anything, even though everything inside of her is screaming at her to do something. She likes to think that her jealousy isn’t as bad as it used to be.

Quinn watches their interactions closely, and it isn’t until the man puts a hand on her girlfriend’s thigh that something inside of Quinn snaps.

She struts right over to them, acting purely on instinct, turns Rachel’s head towards hers, and captures her lips in a bruising kiss. Rachel responds eagerly, threading her hands through Quinn’s hair as she kisses her for all she’s worth.

Quinn knows it’s a primal urge, staking her claim like this, and a laughable one at that. But she can’t possibly bear to watch this man put his hands on her girlfriend, not when she spent so long denying herself that simple pleasure. Luckily, if the dazed look and goofy grin on her face are any indication, Rachel doesn’t seem to mind her possessive tendencies. At all. 

Pulling back from the kiss, Quinn grins widely at the blissful look on her girlfriend’s face. “Hi, baby,” She purrs, “Who’s this?”

Rachel seems to snap back into reality as she says, “Oh, Quinn, this is… Steven! Steven, this is my girlfriend, Quinn.”

Quinn looks at the man, Steven, for the first time, smirking at the frustration on his face. Serves him right for trying to pick up her girlfriend.

“Pleasure,” Quinn lies.

“Yeah, right.” Steven mutters, getting up from his seat and walking around to (presumably) find his next potential hook up.

Quinn turns her attention back to Rachel and is in awe of the love reflected in her eyes. She’s about to apologize when Rachel kisses her again, and Quinn is all too happy to comply. 

When Quinn opens her mouth and kisses her deeper, Rachel moans softly, sending shivers down Quinn’s spine. She pulls away, conscious of where they are and the multiple pairs of eyes that are now on them. However, Rachel’s dazed look is back again, and Quinn laughs at her. 

“That was… really great.” Rachel mumbles, her pupils blown.

“Yeah?” Quinn asks with a grin, “You didn’t mind?”

“No, I didn’t,” Rachel admits, explaining, “I didn’t exactly… love when Finn used to stake some kind of claim over me, like I was a piece of property, but, well, when you do it…” She trails off, cheeks blushing bright red.

“When I do it… what?” Quinn asks, needing to hear what Rachel wants to say.

Rachel blushes deeper. “When you do it, I… it’s just really appealing to me, that’s all.”

Quinn grins devilishly. “You totally think it’s hot when I say that you’re mine and only mine, don’t you?”

Rachel meets her eyes and drags her into another kiss, and Quinn knows she’s right. (And she’s so glad for it.)

* * *

_v._

There’s something about seeing a wedding ring on Rachel’s finger that just drives Quinn _wild_.

It satisfies all of her possessive tendencies in ways that she didn’t even know were possible. When she proposed to Rachel and slipped that ring on her finger, her brain had short-circuited for a moment at the sight of the engagement ring on her. They got married just three weeks ago, and Quinn still marvels at the sight of the silver band on her finger every time she sees it.

It means a lot of things to her. It means love, first and foremost. It means commitment. It means sacrifice, dedication, persistence. It means luck, for they wouldn’t have such a privilege if they were living in a different time period. 

It also means that Rachel is hers, and that she will be hers, forever; the physical evidence of that is too much for Quinn sometimes.

Like right now, when they are back in Lima to help Rachel’s dads finish packing up the house to prepare for their move to New Jersey. They’re just having dinner at Breadstix, one last time before their lives officially have no lasting ties to this godforsaken town. (Judy has been living in Pennsylvania near Quinn’s sister, Frannie, for the past three years, and all of their friends live in New York and the surrounding states.)

She’s sitting next to her wife, which, don’t even get her started on that title. Across from them are Rachel’s dads, and they’re waiting for their food when Hiram mentions something about seeing Finn the other day.

“What was that?” Rachel asks.

“I ran into him at Sheets ‘N Things a week or two ago,” Hiram explains, “He just asked how you were doing, that’s all.”

“Did you tell him about us?” Rachel says.

“No, I didn’t. Should I have?” Hiram asks.

Quinn hates talking, or even thinking, about Finn Hudson. The thought of him just reminds her of being in high school and doing everything she could to keep dating him when, really, she just wanted to be dating Rachel, but she didn’t know it.

The thought of Finn finding out that Rachel is Quinn’s, and will be forever, sends her thoughts flying through the roof, but she knows that, as much as she would love that satisfaction, it probably wouldn’t have been the best idea to drop that on him just like that.

Rachel eyes Quinn, and Quinn sighs, saying, “No, it was probably for the best that you didn’t tell him. We can tell him ourselves whenever we see him next.”

Plus, Quinn would never miss up the opportunity to see the look on his face when he finds out.

Rachel nods her agreement, grabbing Quinn’s hand and lacing their fingers together. She spots the ring on Rachel’s finger, and it fills her whole body with warmth.

No matter what happened in their past, Quinn got the girl in the end. Rachel Berry (now Fabray) is hers, for the rest of their lives, and that’s worth more than any memory from their tumultuous past could ever be.


	11. day 11: performance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 11! Yes, this is late, but I did it, so I don't wanna hear a thing. Quinn sees Rachel perform in her college production of Rent. Enjoy.

Sitting on the train, Quinn sees her phone light up as she’s doing some work for her history class. She has a text from Rachel, and just the sight of the name on her phone makes her smile.

 _My call time is in half an hour_ , It reads, _Kurt will meet you at Grand Central and bring you back to our apartment before the show. Can’t wait to see you!!!_

Quinn smiles even more after reading the text. She types, _Thanks. I know you’re gonna do great tonight. Break a leg!_ , and attempts to go back to her work while her mind thinks about the night ahead of her.

She’s currently on the Metro-North train from Union Station in New Haven to Grand Central Terminal in Manhattan. In about an hour, she’ll arrive in New York, meet Kurt, go with him to their apartment in Bushwick, and go from Bushwick to Greenwich Village where NYADA is located.

Rachel is starring in a school production of _Rent_ tonight. It’s her first major role in a major school production, and, given the amount of talent at her school and the fact that they are only sophomores, it’s huge. It’s the opening night, and they’re expected to have a full house, and it’s all Rachel’s been able to talk about for weeks.

Quinn couldn’t be prouder of her best friend.

Of course, this isn’t to say that Rachel hasn’t struggled at all in the past year and a half of college. Quinn has spent hours listening to Rachel complain about her dance teacher from hell, her grueling acting classes, and her extremely strict vocal coach, but she’s always known that Rachel is too talented to let any of that drag her down. And she’s right. Because Rachel landed this role in _Rent_ , just as a sophomore, and Quinn knows she’s gonna be amazing.

By the time she arrives in New York, she’s finished with her work, which just leaves her with more time to spend with Rachel this weekend. Quinn exits the train with her bag, steps onto the platform, and immediately spots Kurt a number of feet away. She walks over to him, greeting him with a friendly hug, and they head outside where Kurt hails a cab. 

Their conversation stays light, talking mostly about how they’re each doing and about Rachel and the show. She and Kurt have never been super close, but they’ve grown to be friendly as she’s come to visit Rachel several times in the past year and a half. Quinn likes Kurt, she does, but he can be a bit irritating at times, and she hasn’t forgotten his “the world never stopped loving you” comment during their senior year. When she came out to him as gay, his eyes had grown comically wide, and he had apologized for that comment and for not knowing sooner. Quinn had accepted the apology, but she still thinks about it from time to time, in the moments when he’s particularly getting on her nerves. But he’s Rachel’s roommate, and her best friend, so Quinn tends to push those feelings aside for Rachel's sake. 

They make it to the apartment in Bushwick; Quinn drops her bags in Rachel’s “room,” changes into something a tad more formal, does her hair and makeup in the bathroom, and they’re quickly out the door to catch a bus into Greenwich Village. The bus ride is uneventful, aside from one passenger loudly arguing on the phone with his (presumed) wife, at which Quinn and Kurt shared a mutual look of exasperation. Arriving near the campus, they make the short walk over to the theatre building. Kurt pulls their tickets out from his pocket, hands them to the person at the booth, and they’re given two programs and a wish to “enjoy the show” before they are shown to their seats.

Immediately, Quinn opens the program and begins to search for Rachel’s name. It’s right on the third page, the cast list, at the end of a long line of dots next to the name _Maureen_. 

Quinn has to admit that she’s never actually seen _Rent_ , nor does she know what the show is even about beyond what the title implies. She’s heard a good amount from Rachel over the past months, but the details are still pretty fuzzy for her. 

She finds Rachel’s picture in the biography section, and she smiles at the sight of her. Quinn reads her bio, and something inside of her lights up as she reads the last sentence.

_Rachel would like to thank her dads and her best friends, Kurt and Quinn, for always believing in her and making sure that she would get it right._

The sight of her own name and the callback to their conversation from nearly three years ago brings all sorts of emotions bubbling to the surface inside of her. Thankfully, she doesn’t have too much time to sit with her thoughts before the lights dim, and the pit begins to play.

Quinn is left waiting for Rachel’s character’s entrance for a while, so she sits back and enjoys the show for what it is. And she definitely enjoys it. The cast are extremely talented, though she would expect nothing less from a performing arts school, and the music is equally amazing.

It’s right before a song entitled _Tango: Maureen_ (which Quinn had learned from the program) that a sudden realization dawns on her. The song is between two characters, Mark, Maureen’s ex-boyfriend, and Joanne, Maureen’s current partner. The realization hits Quinn like a train: Rachel is playing Maureen, and Maureen is dating a woman named Joanne.

Well, _that_ is an important detail that Rachel forgot to mention.

She watches these two characters sing about being in a relationship with Maureen and the challenges that come with it, and Quinn’s mind is racing with the idea of Rachel dating a woman. Rachel, her very much straight best friend, is going to be playing a relationship with a woman.

Why hadn’t she mentioned that?

A while later, Rachel, as Maureen, finally makes her entrance, arriving on stage on a makeshift motorcycle, and the crowd erupts in cheers. The stage blacks out for a beat, and then the lights come back up to show Rachel, center stage, performing a solo act for the audience.

It’s a six minute song full of metaphors, funny bits, and theatricality, and Rachel _shines_. Quinn watches in awe as Rachel performs and cracks the audience up while also showing off her vocal ability. 

The song is brilliant. _Rachel_ is brilliant, and the thunderous applause she receives following the number is more than well-deserved. 

In the next scene, the whole cast is in a diner, and, within minutes of each other, Quinn watches Rachel both pull down her pants to show her bare butt to the entire audience as a part of the song and kiss two different girls.

Quinn’s brain short-circuits.

Seeing Rachel’s bare ass for the first time along with the hundreds of others in this theatre is something that she never saw coming, so that’s that. But seeing Rachel kiss two women, on stage, in front of hundreds, gives Quinn so many conflicting thoughts that all come back to the fact that she wishes she were the one, on that stage, kissing Rachel.

There’s an intermission after this scene, and Quinn sends a silent thanks up to Jonathan Larson for that because she needs time to process everything that she just saw. 

Kurt turns to her and asks, “So, what do you think?”

Quinn lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s really good. And Rachel, she’s just…”

“Amazing, right?” He says, and Quinn nods to agree. “She’s been really nervous about what you would think.”

“Really?” She asks, shocked. “Why?”

Kurt shrugs. “She’s always a little insecure when it comes to you.”

Quinn’s silent for a moment, pondering Kurt’s words. Then, she says, “I don’t know how she can be insecure when it comes to her performing, especially compared to me. Rachel’s… She’s brilliant, and she knows that.” Her eyes gleam over as she continues, “This role… it’s perfect for her. She’s shining.”

“Oh, wow.”

Quinn spins her head to look at him, seeing a grin on his face. “What?”

“You’re so into her.” Kurt says.

“What? No, I’m not.” Quinn lies though her face betrays her.

Kurt laughs, “Yes, you so are. Damn, I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. This makes so much sense.”

Quinn blushes fiercely and says, “You can’t say anything to her. Please, Kurt, you can’t. It would ruin everything.”

He simply nods as the lights go dim, signalling the beginning of the second act. It opens on the whole cast standing on the stage as they sing _Seasons of Love_ , and Quinn is left in tears. Quickly, it shifts into a new scene where Maureen and Joanne are arguing; the music for the next song starts, and Quinn instantly recognizes it.

When Rachel starts singing _Take Me or Leave Me_ , Quinn is thrown back to when she and Mercedes sang this song in Glee. She sounds just as incredible as she did back then, if not better, and the actress playing Joanne gives back just as good as she’s getting. They sound amazing together, and Quinn is hit with the thought that Rachel truly was made to be on stage. There’s something about her that shifts when she’s performing, and it is such a sight to be lucky enough to witness.

After that number, the rest of the show turns sad, quickly, and Quinn is basically crying through the entire remainder of the show. At the end of the show, when the cast finishes their final note, Quinn jumps to her feet with applause, everyone else quickly following behind her. When Rachel comes out during the curtain call, Quinn cheers for her so loudly that it draws strange looks from the people around her, but she can’t even find it in herself to care. Rachel somehow finds her in the audience, bows, and blows a kiss in her direction before getting out of the way for the next cast member, and Quinn’s heart flutters in her chest.

No matter how hard she tries, she can never seem to quell her feelings for this girl.

* * *

It’s a while before Quinn and Kurt find Rachel after the show, and it’s to be expected. She probably has tons of classmates, professors, and other friends that she’ll want to speak to first. Eventually, though, Rachel comes out of the crowd of people, spots Quinn, a massive smile lighting up her face, and runs over to her. Quinn opens her arms as Rachel nearly plows into her, throwing her arms around her shoulders in such a tight hug it almost knocks the wind out of her. She wraps her arms around Rachel’s back and squeezes her tightly, enjoying the feeling of their bodies pressed so closely together. 

“Hi,” Rachel mumbles shyly.

“Hi, Rach,” Quinn giggles, pulling back from the hug and watching Rachel take a slight step back and lower herself from her tiptoes. She says, “The show was amazing. _You_ were amazing. I loved it so much.”

Rachel grins shyly, playing with her hands. “You really think so?”

“Yes,” Quinn states honestly, “No one could have done it better.”

Rachel blushes as smiles as Kurt scoffs next to them. She gives Kurt a quick hug and begins rambling, saying, “The show went so great tonight! Our dress rehearsal was a disaster last night, but everyone was so amazing tonight! _La Vie Bohème_ went so well, and Darryl absolutely _killed_ the reprise of _I’ll Cover You_ , and, wow, Jamie during _Take Me or Leave Me_? She was amazing, don’t you think so, Quinn?”

Quinn vaguely remembers seeing the name Jamie in the program, assuming she’s the woman who played Joanne, and says, “Yeah, she was great.

“She’s a senior, and I was so nervous to work with her and do certain scenes, but she’s the nicest person ever, and she’s been so encouraging this whole time.” Rachel explains.

“That’s really good to hear,” Quinn says before she admits as casually as she possibly can, “I didn’t realize you’d be, you know, dating a girl in the show.”

Rachel smiles and says, “Yeah, that’s one of my favorite things about _Rent_! Getting to play a bi character is so amazing, especially because we don’t get a lot of representation in musicals.”

Quinn nods, running what she just said through her head, and she stops. “You… we… wait, what?”

Did Rachel just imply that she… that she is… what now?

“Yeah, I’m bisexual,” Rachel confirms, oblivious to Quinn’s racing thoughts, “Did I never tell you that?”

“Um, no?” Quinn blurts out incredulously, her voice embarrassingly high-pitched. 

She can’t believe this. Rachel is bisexual. Rachel likes men _and_ women. Which means that she likes women. In a romantic sense. As more than friends.

“Huh,” Rachel says, “I thought I had mentioned it.” She continues talking about how the show went, but Quinn is too trapped in her thoughts to properly listen.

How could she never have told Quinn? Quinn came out to her as a lesbian almost an entire year ago. They had gone to New York Pride together with Kurt, and Quinn had just thought that Rachel was there as an ally and a friend! Rachel has asked her multiple times about her crushes, potential flings, without _once_ mentioning a thing about her own feelings for girls.

Then, Quinn wonders, has Rachel kissed a girl before being in this show? How long has she known? And, again, how had she never told Quinn?

These thoughts run through her mind for the rest of the night. On the bus ride back to Bushwick, as she’s changing into her pajamas and washing her face in the bathroom, when she gets into Rachel’s bed and lays on her back, staring at the ceiling, her mind going fifty miles a minute.

They’ve gotten used to this whole sharing-a-bed thing, so it’s no surprise to Quinn when Rachel climbs into the bed next to her shortly after she gets in herself. It does, however, carry a whole new level of significance in Quinn’s mind, one that she is struggling to ignore.

Rachel keeps her lamp light on, leaving them mostly in darkness but with enough visibility to see each other’s faces, and asks, “Did I really never tell you about my sexuality?”

She says it thoughtfully, as if she truly believed she had brought it up at some point, and Quinn resists the urge to laugh. Instead, she says, “No, you never did. Believe me, I would have remembered.”

Rachel’s face drops, and Quinn knows she’s said the wrong thing. “What do you mean?” She asks carefully.

“I just mean that, um,” Quinn stutters nervously, “If I had known, I might have…”

She trails off, and Rachel seems to hang on her every word. “Might have, what?”

Quinn sighs. They are both laying on their backs on the bed, and she feels Rachel’s hand slowly stretch out, just barely touching her own. The simple contact sends sparks through her hand, up her arm, spreading through her whole body. She hears Rachel take in a breath when Quinn laces their fingers together, and it gives her all of the courage she needs to say what she’s about to say.

“I might have, I don’t know,” Quinn says quietly, “Made a move, or something.”

Rachel is quiet for a moment, and the feeling of their hands together is almost too much for Quinn. She’s about to pull hers away when Rachel turns on her side to look at her, and Quinn turns to meet her eyes. There, she finds deep brown eyes, swirling with confusion and… hope?

“Made a move?” Rachel whispers, awed.

“Yeah.” Quinn whispers back, blushing intensely.

Rachel shifts closer to her, and Quinn’s heart rate picks up. Her heart is pounding so loudly in her chest that she’d be surprised if Rachel couldn’t hear it. Rachel leans her face towards Quinns, just inches separating their lips.

“Like, this?” She murmurs, erasing the distance between them and pressing her lips to Quinn’s.

Quinn’s heart soars out of her chest at the first touch of Rachel’s lips to hers. She doesn’t respond at first, trying to process what is even happening right now, but as soon as she does, as soon as her heart lands back in her chest, pounding steadily, Quinn kisses Rachel back with everything she has.

The kiss is everything all at once. It’s short, not more than lips sliding together, for just a few seconds, but it leaves Quinn wanting more, wanting everything this girl is willing to give her.

Rachel pulls back, smiling widely. She pecks Quinn’s lips one more time before she tucks herself into Quinn’s side, resting her head on her shoulder, and whispers, “Good night.”

Quinn chuckles to herself, tilting her head to rest on Rachel’s. Thank God for Maureen Johnson.


	12. day 12: making out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 12! At an embarrassingly early (late?) time of day, but complete, nonetheless. This is three times Rachel makes out with people. Head on over to sorryforthedead when you’re done to read the other part to this, but from Quinn’s perspective! Enjoy!

The first person Rachel ever makes out with is Finn. 

He’s also her first kiss, first boyfriend, first relationship, so, to be fair, the bar is pretty low. Still, it’s everything she’s hoped for since she first heard him sing the opening lines to _You’re the One That I Want_ at his first Glee rehearsal. 

And making out with him is… well, it’s nice. It’s a pleasant experience, Rachel thinks. They’ve been officially dating for just a few days, and he’s the only boy, the only person, that she’s ever kissed, so she doesn’t know any better, but Rachel likes to think that Finn is a good kisser. Besides, he likes her, and that’s what matters. 

Their first kiss in the auditorium had been so special. It was Rachel’s first kiss, the first time her lips had ever touched another’s, and it was everything she had ever hoped it would be. (Except for the fact that he was dating Quinn at the time, and that he immediately ran away after, leaving Rachel in tears.)

But never mind that because the kiss had been amazing. At the time, at least.

Now, after sharing more kisses with Finn, she can admit that their first kiss wasn’t all that great. And making out with him is pretty much the same.

They’re sitting on his bed, kissing slowly, and Rachel is (mostly) enjoying it. His lips are chapped, and he reeks mildly of sweat and Axe body spray, but the feeling of his lips against hers is enough for her. He forces his tongue into her mouth, the sensation all too intruding, and Rachel pushes him back to lay down on the bed in order to separate their mouths for a second. She crawls on top of him, her body mostly covering his, and reconnects their lips.

His kisses are sloppy, messy even, and not even two seconds pass before he’s forcing his tongue into her mouth again, and she’s forced to accept it this time. It’s warm, but an uncomfortable warmth, and, yet again, its presence feels intrusive. Uninvited, even. However, Finn doesn’t seem to realize, so Rachel pulls away, instead kissing her way across his cheek and down his neck. She’s pressing kisses to his neck when she hears a quick intake of breath, and Rachel stops her motions and watches Finn’s face.

His eyes are clenched shut, breathing heavily, mouth agape, face contorted, and Rachel knows he’s trying to fight off his release. It’s something she’s known about for a while, but to see it happen, right in front of her, is a whole other beast. The expression on his face is certainly not the most attractive thing Rachel has ever seen, but the knowledge that _she_ is the one causing his reaction makes up for that in spades.

She’s never been wanted before. But Finn, he likes her. He likes her, and that’s something she’s never had for herself. So, yeah, she can overlook things like his poor kissing skills and bad scent and inability to make out for more than two minutes because, well, he is interested in her.

When he calms back down, Finn smirks up at her, rolling them over so that he is on top. The weight of his massive body on top of her petite frame is borderline smothering, but, again, it’s something she can overlook. They kiss again, Finn still using way too much tongue, and Rachel can feel something pressing into her lower thigh. She resists the urge to look down, already knowing what the feeling is. 

It’s a weird feeling, but, again, knowing that she is the object of Finn’s affection, making him having reactions like this, is enough for her. It can be enough for her.

* * *

Being with Jesse is a completely different experience.

He’s not her first kiss, not by a long shot. And now, comparing him to Finn, Rachel knows that Finn is, in fact, a terrible kisser. But Jesse is the complete opposite.

Jesse is older, by nearly two years, and clearly has more experience, both in and out of bed. And, after meeting him at the music store and singing _Hello_ with him, Rachel was instantly drawn to him. His charisma is appealing, and his talent is off the charts. He’s everything Rachel has ever imagined in a future partner.

Making out with him is a more-than-pleasant experience. He’s definitely a good kisser, much better than Finn was. And, though they’ve only been together for a few weeks, he has already been a much more considerate boyfriend than Finn had been for the week that they were together before he dumped her to “find his inner rockstar.”

He hasn’t pressured her into anything she isn’t ready for, and he had changed schools to prove his dedication to her, and Rachel couldn’t believe that anyone would do that for her. That anyone would like her so much that they would leave their school to be with her.

So, yeah, she likes Jesse. A lot. And making out with him is great.

They’re at her house one night when her dads aren’t home, kissing, and Rachel likes it. A lot. Definitely a lot more than she liked kissing Finn. Jesse isn’t sloppy; he’s smooth and skilled, a harsh contrast to Finn. He smells like money, like some designer cologne that she knows he spent way too much money on, something Kurt has wished he could afford, and his lips are soft and smooth, never dry or cracked.

Jesse is laying on top of her on her bed, and the weight of his body on hers isn’t uncomfortable. It’s comforting, almost, and the feeling of his lips against hers is wonderful. 

Plus, he likes her. 

When he slides his tongue into her mouth, it doesn’t feel intrusive, and Rachel gladly welcomes the sensation. It feels good, and it draws a slight moan from her throat, making her blush with embarrassment. Jesse just smirks into the kiss and kisses her deeper. He moves to kiss her neck, finding a particularly sweet spot and settling on it, and Rachel knows this is the kind of pleasure that people write songs about.

The thing is, she’s not sure if Jesse feels the same way. She knows that he likes her and cares about her, but there’s a sense of detachment in everything he does, as if he wouldn’t care who was beneath him as long as there was someone. With Finn, Rachel knew he truly liked her and was attracted to her, as evident by his (very obvious) physical reactions. But, with Jesse, Rachel can’t tell how much he’s even getting out of this. He doesn’t look _bored_ , per se, but he certainly doesn’t look particularly interested. 

She rolls them over, so she’s on top of him, and kisses him again. Their lips slide together easily, and Jesse lifts a hand to run through her hair. He tugs on it slightly, and Rachel gasps at the pleasure that shoots down her spine. Jesse smirks, does it again, and captures her lips in another kiss, sliding his tongue back inside her mouth.

Jesse may not be as into her as Finn was, but he’s kind and considerate and patient and one hell of a kisser. That can be enough for Rachel, too.

* * *

Dating Quinn Fabray exceeds all of her previous expectations.

Four years after her first relationship, Rachel has finally figured out what kissing someone and being with someone is supposed to feel like. It’s not hearing someone sing and instantly finding yourself attracted to them; it’s not being amazed that someone actually likes _you_ , so you think you _must_ like them back; it isn’t dating someone who pursued you, then seemed to quickly lose interest (and then turned out to be a lying asshole). No, it is none of those things.

And, oddly enough, Quinn Fabray is teaching her that.

Being with Quinn is everything to Rachel. She is kind, compassionate, funny, charming, every single positive adjective Rachel and think of. And Quinn likes her. Quinn likes her so much that Rachel can’t even wrap her head around it. She’s very much interested in her, very much attracted to her, and Rachel feels the exact same way.

On top of all of this, Quinn is an extremely talented kisser. Like, definitively the best. She is even smoother than Jesse, and leaps and bounds more passionate than Finn, and the best part is that she is neither of those men because she is Quinn Fabray, Rachel’s girlfriend.

She’s visiting Quinn in New Haven on a whim; the look of surprise on Quinn’s face when she had shown up at her dorm room had been more than worth the stress of her last minute decision. Her roommate, Olivia, had slipped out right after Rachel had arrived to give them some privacy, and Quinn had wasted no time in pulling Rachel towards her and kissing the life out of her.

Now, they’re on Quinn’s bed, Quinn laying on top of Rachel, and Rachel can’t help but think about how perfect everything feels. Quinn’s body on hers is delicious, their curves touching in all the right places, and she smells like warm vanilla and something that is distinctly Quinn. Her lips are so, _so_ soft, and she tastes like home, something Rachel had never thought could have a taste before she kissed Quinn for the first time. 

They’re kissing, and Quinn gently runs her tongue along Rachel’s lower lip, seeking entrance which Rachel gladly gives. She slips her tongue into her mouth, their tongues meet, and Rachel moans loudly, which makes Quinn moan in return. Hearing Quinn’s obvious pleasure sends tingles shooting through Rachel’s body, right to her core, and just the thought of Quinn enjoying this even half as much as Rachel is enjoying it is more than enough for her.

Her hands, once fixed tight in Quinn’s hair, now roam aimlessly up and down Quinn’s body, not knowing where to settle. Kissing Quinn makes her forget how to act, how to think, what to do with herself. She becomes a complete, lovesick fool at the hands of her girlfriend, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

This thing with Quinn, it’s the real deal. Rachel has never felt like this about Finn, or Jesse, or anyone else she has been with. She’s never felt so loved and cared for and _turned on_ by someone all at the same time. She’s never felt so content with another person. She’s never felt so seen, and heard, and missed, and loved, and, frankly, aroused. 

When Quinn moves her hands from Rachel’s waist up along her sides, her hand brushes against the side of her breast, just barely there, a ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to send a sudden wave of pure, unadulterated _need_ throughout her body. 

She wants Quinn. She _needs_ Quinn, in a way that she’s never wanted or needed anyone before. The thought terrifies her. Of wanting someone, needing someone, in ways that she’s never known before. But it also excites her because, well, Quinn wants her in the same way.

Quinn wants Rachel, just as Rachel wants Quinn. And it’s not just enough; it’s more than enough. Somehow, it’s everything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this wasn’t too terrible. Go check out chapter 12 of the fic by sorryforthedead!


	13. day 13: eating ice cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re on Day 13! This takes place at some point during or after 2x21 when Finn breaks up with Quinn after the funeral, and Rachel decides to pay Quinn a visit at home. Hope you enjoy!

The doorbell rings, and Quinn is confused. It’s a Saturday afternoon, her mom is at her weekly book club meeting, and Santana and Brittany are on a weekend trip with Brittany’s family, so there’s no one else that Quinn would expect to be coming to her house on a whim. 

Pausing her movie, she stands up from the couch in her living room and makes her way through the kitchen to the front door. She adjusts her t-shirt and pajama shorts, making sure they’re covering all the important places, and she cracks the door open to see who it is.

Standing outside her front door is none other than Rachel Berry. To say that Quinn is shocked is an understatement.

She and Rachel aren’t exactly on great terms, or any terms at all, really. Their argument before Regionals had left a lasting imprint in Quinn’s mind, but then Rachel had called her a friend just a few weeks later, and there was the entire thing at Prom, and Quinn doesn’t know what to believe at this point. All she knows is that Rachel is standing on her front porch, eyes wide, looking almost nervous, and Quinn isn’t rude enough to shut the door in her face. 

“Rachel?” Quinn asks, “What are you doing here?”

Rachel looks up and meets Quinn’s eyes. “Hi, Quinn. I was, well, um…”

Quinn notices she’s holding a bag, and she quirks an eyebrow. “What’s in the bag?”

“What ba–Oh, right, yes,” Rachel cuts herself off, clears her throat, and continues, “Well, you see, I, um, I heard about you and Finn.”

Rachel pauses, waiting for Quinn’s reaction, but she doesn’t react. Outwardly, at least. She keeps her face calm, lips pursed, while her internal thoughts run wild.

Finn broke up with her two days ago, just after Jean’s funeral, and Quinn is still in the process of getting over it. Of course she is; it’s only been two days. If she’s being honest with herself, she’s not mourning the end of the relationship as much as she is Finn’s words.

 _Don’t you feel anything anymore?_ , He had said, _This is real. This is happening._

Quinn nods for Rachel to continue, and she does, saying, “Right, so I heard about you two, and I, well…”

She pauses, reaching into her bag to pull out what looks like… ice cream? 

“It’s kind of dumb, but I brought you some ice cream because I know I went through an embarrassing amount when Finn and I broke up, vegan, of course,” She explains nervously, “A-And I know Brittany and Santana are out of town this weekend, so I just thought that… you know what, this is stupid, I’m just gonna—”

“Wait, no, stop,” Quinn interrupts as Rachel starts to put the ice cream back in the bag. “This is… really nice of you.”

Rachel stops her motions, looking up into Quinn’s eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah,” She says, seeing the doubt in her eyes, “Yeah, it is. Do you… do you wanna come inside?”

Rachel’s eyes widen, and Quinn almost laughs at the shock apparent on her face. “No, no that’s okay. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t be,” Quinn insists, perhaps a little too quickly, but the girl did bring her ice cream after all. The least she can do is let her come hang out for a bit. “My mom is out anyway, and I could use the company.”

She watches Rachel mull over her options, and she’s maybe a little glad when Rachel simply nods and steps into the house. Suddenly, Quinn is all too aware of her appearance, and she quickly attempts to fix her messy ponytail as Rachel takes her shoes off. She looks at Rachel, in her flowy, pink sundress, and Quinn feels like a slob in her ratty shirt and shorts. 

“You can go in the living room. I’m just gonna go change really quickly.” Quinn says.

She’s about to run upstairs when Rachel says, “No, you don’t need to. You look great just how you are.”

Quinn eyes Rachel, seeing the sincerity reflected in her deep brown eyes, and sighs, giving in. She knows that she and Rachel both have their own issues with beauty and vanity and insecurities, so she’s not about to argue with her right now. Besides, she’s in her own home, and she’s really not in the mood to go put on nicer clothes or do her makeup.

Quinn leads Rachel into the living room, taking the bag from her and setting it down on the coffee table. She gestures for Rachel to take a seat on the couch, and she walks back into the kitchen to grab two spoons for them, coming back to find Rachel sitting up, back straight, looking extremely nervous and uncomfortable. She hands a spoon to Rachel and sits in the opposite corner of the couch, tucking her legs underneath her. 

“I didn’t know you wear glasses,” Rachel says as Quinn grabs the ice cream out of the bag, finding one pint of regular chocolate chip cookie dough and one pint of vegan strawberry. She wordlessly hands the vegan ice cream to Rachel, choosing to ignore the fact that the girl had probably intended on being invited inside if her choice of ice cream is any indication.

Then, she registers Rachel’s comment and blushes, adjusting the frames on her face. “Unfortunately, I am not as perfect as I may seem.” She says, opening her pint of ice cream. 

“No one is, Quinn. Regardless, I think they look really nice on you. You should wear them to school sometime.” Rachel replies, opening her own pint and putting a spoonful in her mouth. Quinn does the same, and they both release similar sounds of pleasure at the taste, causing them both to flush with embarrassment.

The ice cream is exactly what she needs today, especially this flavor, which leads Quinn to ask, “How did you know this is my favorite flavor?”

Rachel’s cheeks turn red as she says, “I may have texted Santana and Brittany this morning to ask them. Multiple times.”

Quinn just laughs and keeps eating her ice cream. She notices something else in the bag, and she reaches in to take out what looks to be a pile of DVD’s, holding them up to Rachel with curiosity and raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, right, I brought some movies, too,” Rachel explains, “Although my options were fairly limited, and I wasn’t sure what you like, but I brought a variety of options in case you wanted to watch any of those.”

She fans through the movies, pleasantly surprised to see that they aren’t _all_ musicals, and smiles when she sees one of her favorites. Getting up from the couch, she walks over to the DVD player to pop in _Mamma Mia!_ and comes to sit back down in her spot.

They sit and watch the movie in a comfortable silence, still sitting on opposite ends of the couch. Quinn has seen this movie an embarrassing number of times, and she’s sure Rachel has, too, based on the way she’s quietly humming along to all of the songs. By the time it gets to the title track, Rachel is singing, rather than humming, and Quinn finds it more endearing than annoying, which comes as a surprise to her. She finds herself enjoying Rachel’s presence, something that she never imagined, especially given recent events. Still, it doesn’t completely take her mind off of her sorrows, and Quinn can’t stop her mind from repeating those words from Finn over and over.

_Don’t you feel anything anymore?_

Suddenly, tears come to her eyes, and Quinn has nothing left in her to keep them from falling. She tries to keep quiet, she really does, but, after about a minute, she sniffles, and it instantly draws Rachel’s attention. Rachel’s eyes meet hers, and one look at the concern evident in her expression has Quinn releasing a deep breath and fully breaking into sobs. Rachel gasps, instantly setting her ice cream and spoon aside, and moves closer to Quinn. She takes the spoon and container from her, placing them on the coffee table, and grabs Quinn’s hands. The feeling just makes Quinn cry harder, and Rachel immediately pulls her into a tight hug, clutching her head with one hand, holding her back with another. 

“It’s okay, Quinn. You’re okay,” Rachel murmurs into her ear, “Just let it out. You’re okay.”

Quinn just cries into her for a few minutes, embarrassed beyond belief. As her tears slow down, she leans back and wipes her face, and Rachel pulls her arms away but doesn’t make a move to put any distance between them, for which Quinn is admittedly grateful.

“We can talk about it, you know,” Rachel says softly, kindly. “I know you and I have had our differences in the past, especially when it comes to Finn, but I’m here, today, as your friend. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Quinn feels the urge to cry again. Instead, she pushes that down and says, “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all, Quinn.”

She takes a deep breath before she admits, “It’s not even the break-up that’s hitting me the hardest; it’s what he said.”

“What did he say?” Rachel asks.

“He asked me if I even felt anything anymore, like I was some kind of emotionless robot.” Quinn mumbles, hearing how ridiculous she sounds as the words come out of her mouth.

Rachel grabs her hands again, lacing their fingers together, as she says, “Oh, Quinn, I’m so sorry. Finn… isn’t the brightest guy at times. Or a lot of the time. Regardless, he definitely shouldn’t have said that. What even prompted that?”

Quinn sighs. “He was talking about the whole idea of being tethered to someone and how he doesn’t feel that when it comes to me, and I just—”

She cuts herself off, fighting another wave of tears from coming. Rachel squeezes her hands, encouraging Quinn to continue, so she does. 

“I just don’t understand how he can ask me that. Is that how people see me? This cold, unfeeling robot?” She cries, realizing this is now the second time she’s cried in front of Rachel in just the past week and a half; she doesn’t mind it. 

“I don’t see you that way,” Rachel promises, “I see you as a strong, intelligent girl with a depth of emotions that is just beautiful.”

Quinn gasps, meeting Rachel’s eyes and seeing a pool of emotions swirling in them. “How can you say that to me? With how awful I’ve been to you?”

“Because I know that’s not the real you,” Rachel states. “The real you is not this cold, unfeeling girl that the rest of the school may see. The real you is the girl who helped Mercedes out with her eating struggles last year, the girl who helps Sam out with his siblings while his parents are out, the girl who isn’t afraid to admit her biggest fears to the girl who used to be her enemy.” Rachel pauses, making sure Quinn is looking at her when she says, “That’s the real you, Quinn, and she’s brilliant.”

Rachel’s words send warm feelings all throughout Quinn’s body, and she can’t bring herself to say anything else. She nods, squeezing Rachel’s hands, and shifts her attention back to the movie in front of them. Letting go of one of her hands, Quinn grabs her spoon and ice cream from the coffee table, sets the pint in her lap, and scoops a spoonful into her mouth. Rachel does the same, their hands still linked together in between them. 

They are sitting shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm, hands clasped, and Quinn has never felt more content with another human being than in this very moment. Whatever that means, she’ll deal with it another day. Because, right now, this day with Rachel, eating ice cream and watching a cheesy musical, is all she needs. 


	14. day 14: genderswapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it’s day 14! This one is a Bit different than the others, as you can see by the prompt. Y’all remember when Karofsky kissed Kurt? Yeah, so I’ve always been a firm believer that faberry deserved that storyline, and that it would have happened with them had they both been boys. So, here we are, with my take on boy Quinn Fabray and Ryan Berry. This was a real jump for me, so I hope it turned out well.

Ryan Berry is a lot of things: he’s loud, he’s opinionated, he’s talented, he’s a bit of a diva at times, and he’s ambitious. To a fault, some might say, but he would argue that his ambition got him to where he is today, and that’s not something that can be so easily ignored.

He’s also openly bisexual, and, in a school like McKinley, that definitely has its downsides. It was never something he had considered trying to hide about himself, especially growing up with two moms, but it’s not something he actively goes around shouting about either. However, if asked about his sexuality, Ryan answers honestly, and that is enough for the kids at school to call him names and throw him to the bottom of the social pyramid. 

It certainly doesn’t help that he’s in Glee club, drama club, and speech and debate team, as well as starring in all of the school plays and musicals. But he doesn’t care about the bullying, not anymore, at least.

Well, not a lot. He can deal with being shouldered past in the hall, slushies ordered by the popular kids, and getting called a name every now and then, but there’s one person that has always seemed to get to him more than the others.

Quinn Fabray.

Easily the most popular guy in school, Quinn, for whatever reason, has had a personal vendetta against Ryan since the first week of school their freshman year. He is the captain of the school’s football and soccer teams, dating the head cheerleader on and off, and he is a Grade A pain in Ryan’s ass. Quinn has bullied him relentlessly for the past two and a half years, and Ryan can never seem to figure out why. 

Because Quinn doesn’t pick on anyone else. Ryan is one of many unfortunate people that get shoved and teased in the halls by his other tormentors, but not Quinn. With Quinn, Ryan is the only one that he picks on, that he spends all of his effort in tormenting. Once, he even overheard Quinn telling his friend that he didn’t have time to worry about dating because he needed to “find new ways to torture Ryan.”

What was he supposed to make of that? What did that mean?

He remembers meeting Quinn on his first day of school when they had their third period class together. Quinn had walked in the room, head held high, backpack slung over his shoulder, and Ryan had lost his breath. He distinctly remembers being immediately drawn to his gorgeous hazel eyes and chiseled jawline. Quinn had sat down in the seat next to him, telling him that he liked his shoes, and Ryan’s heart had skipped a beat. His smile was mesmerizing, and Ryan had thought, from that first interaction, that he might have made a friend that day.

Oh, how wrong he was.Two and a half years later, Ryan still thinks about that interaction and wonders what had changed. What had turned Quinn from that kind guy who complimented his shoes to his single worst bully in high school?

He thinks about it, especially in these moments right before Quinn walks up to him in the hall, presumably about to start another altercation. Instead, he does something that he’s never done before.

Ryan is walking in the middle of the hallway when Quinn walks up to him, slams the books in his hands to the ground, and shoves him against the lockers. His back and head slam back into the cold metal, and Ryan winces in pain. There’s a bout of laughter around them, and he looks up at Quinn to see a blank expression on his face.

He’s never been violent before. Quinn has spat names and insults and ordered slushies, but the closest thing to violent he’s ever been was maybe shouldering past him in the hall. He has never done anything like this, and Ryan is determined to figure out what the hell has changed.

He meets Quinn’s gaze, but Quinn storms away before Ryan can say anything. 

“Hey!” Ryan shouts, chasing after him. He follows him down the hall into the bathroom where there’s a few boys that quickly leave when they see Ryan enter after Quinn.

“What, Berry?” Quinn says, raising his eyebrow.

“What do you mean, ‘what?’” Ryan counters. “You just shoved me into a locker.”

He smirks. “Keen observation.”

Ryan scoffs. “Well? Why?”

Quinn shrugs, seemingly unaffected. “Because I can.” He says as he shoves past Ryan to walk out of the bathroom, but Ryan stops him before he can. “What the hell? Get out of my way, freak.”

“No,” Ryan says, not moving from where he stands in front of Quinn.

“No?” Quinn laughs. “You’re really gonna say that to me?”

“Yeah, I am. You don’t have a monopoly on getting your way, you know.” Ryan says. His words come out strong, confident, but his hands are shaking, and he’s three seconds away from breaking down. He’s never stood up to him before, not like this, and it’s thrilling and terrifying all at the same time.

Quinn’s face takes on a hint of anger. “Oh, really? Coming from you?”

Ryan huffs, “I will admit that I can be a bit self-involved at times, but you and your holier-than-thou attitude are the epitome of hypocrisy. I would think with how religious you are that you might act differently, but I guess not.” 

Something akin to pain passes over his face, and, for a moment, Ryan thinks he’s said something wrong. Then, in a cold voice, Quinn says, “You can’t talk to me like that.”

“And why not?” Ryan asks, “You’re not any better than me, and I’m obviously not any better than you. We’re the same, you and me.”

Quinn’s eyes grow wide, and he raises his voice, saying “We are _not_ the same.”

“How? What makes me so different?” Ryan asks, voice rising as his temper grows.

“Because I’m not a queer like you.” Quinn spits out.

Ryan pauses, letting the word hit him. It’s certainly not the worst one he’s heard, but it still stings. He takes a step back and says, “Wow, real mature. That’s what this is all about? Because I like boys?” Quinn looks uncomfortable when he says those words so confidently, and Ryan continues, “Because I promise you it doesn’t affect you. In any way, really.”

(He chooses to ignore the feelings in the pit of his stomach because now is definitely _not_ the time to address those.)

“When I have to see you parading around school, yeah, it does.” Quinn retorts, fuming.

“Parading, really? Because, as far as I’m concerned, I just walk around school like the rest of you do,” Ryan explains. “Although I guess I’m not afforded that luxury as a _queer_ , right? To exist, just like everyone else does?”

“Don’t test me, Berry.” He growls.

“Or what?” Ryan says.

Quinn steps towards him, his tall frame looming over Ryan’s smaller one. His voice drops into a low, rough tone that sends chills down Ryan’s spine as he says, “Move, or I’ll move you.”

Ryan looks him in the eyes, heart pounding loudly in his chest. “What? Are you gonna hit me? Because that won’t change anything. I’m still gonna be here. I’m still gonna be bi. The only difference will be the bruise on my face and your hand, and then everyone will know what happened in here. You want that?”

“Get out of my way!” He shouts.

Ryan scoffs. “Make me.”

Quinn moves his arms, and Ryan braces himself for the impact that never comes. Instead, there’s a different kind of impact, and Ryan gasps when Quinn grabs his face and kisses him. It’s nothing more than lips touching for a couple seconds, but it’s enough to send a whirlwind of conflicting emotions throughout Ryan’s body.

Just like that, it’s over, and Quinn pulls away. Ryan stares at him in disbelief, pushing him away from himself. Quinn looks like a wreck, and Ryan’s sure he doesn’t look any better. His eyes are darting everywhere but at Ryan, and he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. Then, Quinn throws his fist at the bathroom wall, and Ryan gasps the impact, wincing when he sees Quinn’s face contort in pain. His eyes immediately grow concerned, and he looks at Quinn, seeing the tears forming in his eyes. Ryan moves forward to help him, but Quinn steps back instantly, as if he were carrying some sort of disease.

“Don’t touch me.” Quinn barks out, and Ryan nods.

It’s silent for a moment, the two of them processing everything that just happened, and Ryan looks down at Quinn’s hand. It’s turning red, his knuckles bright red and swollen, and he instantly feels bad.

“Quinn,” Ryan says gently, watching him wince at the sound of his voice. “You should probably run your hand under some cold water. It’ll help with the swelling.”

He says nothing, but he moves to the sink and puts his hand under the faucet, sighing as the cool water washes over his swollen hand. Ryan stands there, frozen, contemplating his next move.

Lucas Quinn Fabray just kissed him. What the actual hell? Where do they go from here? And what did it mean?

 _Well,_ Ryan thinks, _It’s pretty obvious what it means. But I know there’s no way he’ll ever admit that. Not right now, at least._

He watches Quinn rub at his knuckles under the running water. He sees the tears gathering in his eyes as he tries to fight them off and fails. They slip down his cheeks, landing in the sink below him, and wash away with the light trails of blood being rinsed off of his hand. It’s a rare moment, Ryan knows, to see Quinn so vulnerable like this. He knows that very few people, if ever, have seen him like this, and Ryan’s gonna take advantage of it, knowing well that this could go south very quickly. Still, it’s worth the shot.

Ryan clears his throat before he says softly, “Do your parents know?”

He’s vague for a reason, and Quinn plays into it. “Know what?” He mutters, still letting the cool water run over his hand.

“Quinn, please.” Ryan begs. “You owe me this much.”

“I don’t owe you sh–” He cuts himself off, releasing a heavy sigh. “No, they don’t. No one does. And if you tell anyone, I swear to God, I’ll—”

“Quinn, relax. I’m not gonna tell anyone,” Ryan interrupts. “Besides, it’s really not in either of our best interests.”

The water stops running, and Ryan watches Quinn grab a paper towel and begin to wipe down his hand. He groans at the pain, and Ryan’s heart aches at the sound. He pulls his backpack out to grab his first aid kit when he realizes that he had left it at home a few days ago to make room for more sheet music in his bag. 

“Do you happen to have a first aid kit on you?” Ryan asks. Quinn looks at him, his face deadpan, and Ryan takes that as a ‘no.’ Still, he continues, “How about a bandage? A wrap, or anything?”

“There should be some in my bag from football.”

With permission, Ryan opens Quinn’s backpack and finds the tan bandage wrap, rolled up inside of a bag. Quinn reaches out to grab it from him, but Ryan holds it back.

“Let me, please,” Ryan requests. “I’m not gonna jump you, or anything.”

Quinn gives in and stretches his hand out. Ryan wraps the bandage carefully around his hand. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but Quinn seems satisfied when he finishes, so he takes that as a job well done. He’s about to say something when Quinn speaks first.

“I’m sorry, Ryan.” He mumbles, quietly, so quietly that Ryan has to strain to hear him. “I’m _so_ sorry.”

Tears fall down his cheeks, and Quinn brushes them away quickly. Ryan aches to reach out to him, but he knows that would only create more problems, so he resists the urge, no matter how difficult it is.

“Why?” Ryan asks instead.

“Why, what?”

“You know what.”

Quinn lets out a heavy sigh. “You have no idea what my life is like. No fucking idea. There’s so much pressure to be perfect, look perfect, act perfect. And I’m just terrified. All of the fucking time.”

Ryan meets his eyes. “What are you so scared of?”

Quinn scoffs, looking away. “Everything. Life,” He says. “You know my parents took my car away when they found out that I quit the Celibacy Club? And they grounded me for two weeks when I told them that Faith and I broke up, for good this time. You have no idea what they’d do to me, Ryan. My dad would beat my ass, worse than he already does, and I’d end up on the streets, or worse.”

“I’d never let that happen.” Ryan says immediately, and his cheeks flush. Thankfully, Quinn doesn’t seem to notice.

“You wouldn’t be able to do anything. It would just happen,” Quinn explains. “And why would you say that, anyway? You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Quinn.” Ryan insists. “I hate the way you act and treat me, but I don’t hate _you._ ”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve always known that this isn't the real you. Now, it just makes a lot more sense.” He explains.

Quinn lets out a deep sigh, his shoulders dropping with all of the tension he had been carrying, and Ryan can’t help but admire the outline of his muscles through his shirt for a brief moment. He’s too attractive; it really isn’t fair.

“You’re a really handsome guy, you know.” Ryan blurts out before he can stop himself. “I-I mean, I just…”

Quinn just laughs and says, “Thanks.”

Ryan smiles. “Some day, down the line, there’s gonna be boys falling over themselves to be with you. I’m sure of it.”

Quinn just gives him a sad smile in return. “Some day, maybe.”

“And, until then,” Ryan says, “You have me.”

Quinn nods, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. He’s heading to leave the bathroom when he turns around and looks back at Ryan.

“I, um… Thank you,” He mumbles nervously, “You know, for not telling anyone. And for being so cool. I, uh, I’m sorry, again.”

“Of course, Quinn.” Ryan responds. Quinn takes a step forward and raises his (non-damaged) hand out for a fist bump. Ryan laughs giddily, stretching his arm out to awkwardly bump his fist against Quinn’s.

“See ya, Berry.” He says before he walks out, leaving Ryan alone in the bathroom.

He exhales and grabs his backpack, looking at himself in the mirror. He raises his hand to his lips, recalling the feeling of Quinn’s lips against his own. Ryan realizes, then, that that was his first kiss with a boy. And what a first kiss it was.

He leaves the bathroom, leaving that memory behind. It can stay in the bathroom. At least, for now. No one needs to know what happened in there, between them. No one needs to know how it made Ryan’s heart skip a beat, or his stomach fill with butterflies, or how Quinn licked his lips after it happened.

It will just be their secret. And that’s enough for Ryan.

At least, for now.


	15. day 15: accidents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 15! Can you believe we are halfway through already? I just want to take a moment to say thank you to everyone reading these! Thank you for the all of the kudos and comments! I promise you I read every single one, and they all warm my heart so much! Anyway, this one is a sweet one, I think. Rachel comes to the realization that she's accidentally living as a married couple with Quinn when they aren't even dating. Enjoy.

Rachel swears it was an accident. She never meant for this to happen.

It was harmless, at first. She and Quinn had grown extremely close over their four years of college, and, with Quinn moving to New York to complete her Master’s (at Columbia University, no less) and Rachel leaving the NYADA dorms, it had only made sense for them to get an apartment together. New York rent _is_ notoriously high, after all. Between studying for finals, writing a senior thesis (for Quinn), and preparing for a senior showcase (for Rachel), they had also gone apartment-hunting on the weekends that Quinn visited New York during their final months of their last semester of college. It had been quite the trying time for them both, and especially for their friendship, but they made it out to the other side with a newfound respect for each other and an excitement for the future.

When they found a reasonably priced–for New York–two bedroom apartment in the Upper East Side, comfortably seated between the Theater District for Rachel and Columbia for Quinn, they jumped on it. Three weeks later, they had moved in, the day after Quinn’s graduation ceremony in New Haven. 

(She had given the commencement address and moved Rachel to tears when she had talked about how excited she was for her future in New York with her best friend.)

Cohabitating had been stressful at the beginning. They were used to sharing a space when they would visit each other over the weekends during school, but that was just for a weekend; living together was its own beast.

Rachel quickly learned that Quinn is quite the night owl, often staying up into the late hours of the night, and won’t wake up until well into the following day. Once, Rachel had woken up to her alarm at 5:30 A.M. to find Quinn sitting at her desk in the living room, scribbling frantically on a sheet of paper. When Rachel had asked her why in Barbra’s name she was still awake, Quinn had simply responded, “I’m writing.”

Ever the morning person, Rachel had just shaken her head and moved to the kitchen to make her coffee for the day, wishing Quinn a good night when she had eventually padded off to her room to go to bed.

Rachel also learned just how adept Quinn is in the kitchen. She knew the girl could cook, but the first night Quinn had made dinner for them, claiming she was simply “trying out a new recipe,” it had been one of the greatest home-cooked meals of her entire life. She told Quinn this much, and Quinn had just blushed and explained herself away, citing a childhood of homemaking and preparing to become a common housewife as an excuse. Rachel has never been quite the chef, having grown up mostly on take-out, so she was beyond grateful for this newfound skill of Quinn’s.

After the first few weeks of getting settled in, living with Quinn Fabray turned out to be even better than Rachel had imagined. On several occasions, she has come home after a long day of grueling auditions to find Quinn making dinner for them both, or writing poetry at her desk, or playing games on some console of which Rachel’s not exactly sure of the name, or asleep on the couch, some random movie playing on the TV. And, every time, no matter what, it warms Rachel’s heart. 

She thinks back to high school, with their arguments and boyfriend drama, and is amazed at how far they’ve come. They’ve built a life together here, in New York City, the city of Rachel’s dreams, and getting to share this life with her best friend has exceeded every one of Rachel’s expectations.

Except for one thing.

A few weeks ago, Santana and Brittany had visited them for Halloween, staying at their apartment with them for a week. Quinn, not wanting to sleep on the couch for an entire week, had given their friends her room and shared Rachel’s bed for the week. At the time, Rachel had thought nothing of it.

Then, on their last day in New York, Santana had made an off-handed comment to her that shook her to her core. Brittany and Quinn were out at the grocery store, and Santana and Rachel had been watching (read: talking over) some trashy TV show.

“You know, Berry,” Santana started, “It disgusts me just how domestic you two are.”

Rachel was confused. “What do you mean?”

Santana just smirked and said, “You and Quinn have this perfect little life here in New York. Living together, having meals together, going out places together. If I didn’t already know you guys, I’d be surprised to find out that you aren’t a fucking married couple.”

She had gone silent after that, leaving Rachel to sit and process her comments. And sit and process, she did. And she still is processing. For weeks, it has been all she can think about, her life with Quinn.

Every moment they’ve spent together in the past few weeks, Rachel has analyzed and overanalyzed, looking for any semblance of evidence that Quinn might have similar thoughts. Because, while it hadn’t occurred to her before Santana had said anything, Rachel has come to realize that she does, in fact, have feelings for Quinn. Romantic ones. _Extremely_ romantic ones.

She’s realized that the warmth in her heart when she comes home to Quinn at the end of the day is affection, not just platonic love. She’s come to realize that sharing a bed with Quinn had felt so natural, so content, simply because Rachel has a huge crush on her. She’s come to realize that the feeling in the pit of her stomach when she sees Quinn with no makeup on, glasses askew on her face, looking incredibly soft in her sweats and a sweatshirt, is not simply a feeling of friendly appreciation of Quinn’s natural beauty, but is, in fact, attraction.

Rachel likes Quinn. A lot. And probably has for a while. And she wants to be with her, officially. And, tonight, she’s decided that she’s going to take the risk.

When she gets home, Rachel finds Quinn curled up on the couch, a book in her lap, glasses on her face. As usual, her breath is taken away at the sight. Quinn notices her, giving her a smile and setting her book down, and she stretches her arms above her head, exposing part of her lower abdomen as her shirt rides up. Rachel’s cheeks turn red, and she turns her head away to keep from staring at the abs that she knows are hidden under that shirt. She takes a deep breath, sets her purse down at the kitchen table, and walks over to sit across from Quinn on the couch. 

“Hey, Rach,” Quinn greets, and Rachel curses herself for how her heart flutters at the sound of the nickname coming from Quinn’s mouth. “How was your day?”

“Huh? Oh, my day, it was good.” Rachel stutters out.

Quinn scoots closer to her, raising an eyebrow. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it is,” She says, “I, um, I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Is this about Sam?” Quinn asks, “Because I swear I told him that he can’t just call you in the middle of the night because I’m ignoring his texts to play Xbox with him, but he—”

“No, it’s not that.” Rachel interrupts with a laugh. “Although I appreciate you telling him that.”

Quinn nods. “Of course. If it’s not that… then, what’s up?”

Rachel opens her mouth to speak, but she pauses because, well, how is she supposed to address this? “It’s just about something that Santana said to me when she and Brittany were here a few weeks ago.”

“Which is?”

She takes another deep breath, exhaling slowly. It’s now or never. “She said that we have the ‘perfect little life’ here in New York,” Rachel explains with air quotes, “And she said that… that, if she didn’t know us, she would think we were… a married couple.”

At this, Quinn’s eyes grow wide, but her face remains expressionless. Rachel soldiers on, saying, “A-And it made me think a lot about me and you. I kept thinking about her words, about how we share this life together, that I absolutely adore and have cherished every moment of. I love living with you, and I love spending my nights with you, and I love having meals with you, and I love getting to see a side of you that no one else does, and I love...” She trails off, afraid to say the words out loud.

Quinn’s staring at her, wide-eyed, a light blush on her cheeks. She adjusts her glasses, runs a hand through her short, messy hair, and looks at Rachel intensely. “Rachel, what… what are you trying to say?”

“I-I always pictured myself making a life in this city,” She says, “It’s always been my dream ever since I was a kid. And, these past months, I have made that dream come true. I’ve been living my dream. But what I never saw coming was having you there, too. I always pictured myself falling for someone that I would eventually meet here, but I never imagined that I would fall for the girl who came here with me.”

Quinn gasps. “Rachel?”

Rachel just nods, tears filling her eyes. “I… I like you, Quinn. Like, romantically,” She breathes out, feeling the weight immediately lifted off of her chest. “A-And I definitely understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I just had to tell you because it’s been weighing on my mind ever since Santana said that.”

“You…” Quinn whispers, almost in awe, “You like me?” Her voice is soft, achingly soft, and Rachel is helpless to do anything but nod. Quinn lets out a heavy breath before she says, “I like you, too.”

Rachel’s heart leaps out of her chest. “Really?”

Quinn nods, smiling brightly, and Rachel smiles back at her. Her eyes drop to Quinn’s lips, watching her tongue run along her bottom lip, and she wants to kiss her so badly. She looks up to Quinn’s eyes, seeing them focused on her own lips, and Rachel takes the chance.

She leans in, taking Quinn’s bottom lip in between hers, and words can’t even describe how Rachel feels. Quinn kisses her back with fervor, their lips sliding together like a key sliding into a lock, like they were just meant to fit together. Rachel hums with pleasure, and she feels Quinn’s lips curl into a grin before she pulls away.

She looks at Quinn, her eyes misty and shining with mirth, her mouth curled into the biggest smile Rachel has ever seen, and she grins right back.

“Be my girlfriend?” Rachel asks.

Quinn cocks an eyebrow with a mischievous grin. “I thought we were already married?”

Rachel laughs boisterously, leaning in to kiss Quinn again. Friends, girlfriends, married, whatever. As long as Rachel gets to keep kissing Quinn like this, she doesn’t care what they wanna call themselves. 

Falling for Quinn may have been an accident, but it’s the best accident she’s ever made.


	16. day 16: morning ritual(s)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 16! Just another morning in the lives of Rachel and Quinn Fabray and their family.

When Rachel wakes up to the sun shining through her window, she knows it’s gonna be a good day. A great day, at that. It’s a Monday morning, and she’s wrapped up under the covers, beside her wife, their daughter fast asleep just down the hall. She doesn’t have a show tonight, and Quinn can write whenever she wants, so they have the entire day to themselves.

Just Rachel, Quinn, and Maya. 

She shifts in the bed, turning over to look at her wife, and is hit with a sudden wave of admiration for this woman. Her wife. Five years later, the label still makes her insides turn over when she thinks about it. Quinn Fabray, her wife. The kid that bullied her in high school, the girl she became close friends with during college, the woman she fell for and never once looked back. Every day, she counts herself lucky to have built this family, this life, with Quinn, and today seems to be one of those days when it hits her particularly hard.

The moisture that has been building up in her eyes slowly comes to fall down her cheeks, and Rachel smiles when she sees Quinn’s eyes flutter open. Instantly, her hazel eyes fill with concern, and Rachel is quick to press a soft kiss to her lips before she can worry even more.

They’ve been together for over eight years, and every kiss is just as good as the first.

Quinn leans back, meeting her eyes carefully. “Morning, Rach. Everything okay?”

Rachel just nods through her gradually subsiding tears. “Everything is perfect,” She says, leaning in for another kiss.

Their lips connect, and Quinn hums into her lips, the vibration travelling through her entire body. She pecks Quinn’s lips once more before she wraps her arm around her waist and tucks her body into the front of Quinn’s. Quinn sighs contentedly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, as she begins to play with her hair.

“What time is it?” Quinn asks, running her fingers through Rachel’s hair.

She turns her head to check the clock on the nightstand behind her and responds, “Almost nine.”

“Wow,” Quinn marvels, “And Maya isn’t up yet?”

“I guess not.” Rachel shrugs.

Then, there’s a clumsy knock at their door, and it is slowly pushed open to reveal their daughter. She pads into the room as Rachel scrambles to make sure they are both suitably clothed. Maya stands next to Quinn’s side of the bed, and Quinn lifts her up and sits her down in between them, careful to avoid setting her directly on top of either of them. 

Maya, with her long, brown hair and deep brown eyes, is the spitting image of Rachel. It fuels her ego a bit, seeing her incredibly adorable daughter who looks just like herself, and she knows how much Quinn loves that their daughter looks just like her. It’s a little unnerving at times, especially when she remembers how she got treated for her looks when she was younger, but she knows that times have changed. And Rachel’s admittedly glad that, while Maya takes after her in looks, her personality is coming to be much more like Quinn, more quiet, reserved, observant. She’s the perfect combination of the two of them, the most perfect thing in their lives.

“Morning, Mama,” Maya says shyly to Rachel, holding her arms out towards her. Rachel grins brightly, sits up, and takes her daughter into her arms to give her a hug.

It’s become somewhat of a ritual, this thing they do in the mornings. They wake up, usually to Maya coming in their room and wanting to be let into their bed. Each morning, they find a few moments for themselves, for their family, no matter how busy their day looks. It has become one of Rachel’s favorite parts of the day. It is especially fun on the mornings when they had spent the previous night engaging in some decidedly R-rated activities, and they scramble to throw on some clothes, or at least cover themselves with the blankets, before Maya can see anything that her young, innocent eyes definitely don’t need to be seeing.

Mornings are always an exciting event in the Fabray household.

Rachel presses a kiss to her daughter’s cheek as she says, “Good morning, little star.”

Maya giggles and reaches her arms out to Quinn. Quinn gladly takes their daughter, lifting her up in the air before bringing her back to the bed and pulling her tightly against herself. Maya’s laughter fills the room, and the sound is one of Rachel’s favorite sounds in the entire world.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Quinn says in the most loving voice, “Did you sleep okay?”

“Mhmm,” Maya hums, “I have a dream.”

Rachel gasps. “You had a dream? About what?”

“Me, you, and Mommy,” Maya says.

“What were we doing?” Quinn asks. Rachel watches their daughter tangle her fingers in Quinn’s hair, tugging on random strands, and she forces herself not to laugh at the somewhat pained expression on Quinn’s face. Maya’s face contorts as she tries to remember her dream, and Quinn meets Rachel’s gaze with a knowing grin.

Then, Maya gasps. “Oh! We, um, we… we saw the animals.” She stutters out, pulling a little too hard on a strand of Quinn’s hair. Quinn gently pries her hand from her hair, holding her hands instead.

“We were at the zoo?” Rachel clarifies, and Maya nods back. “What animals did we see?”

“The-the lions,” Maya says excitedly, squeezing Quinn’s hands, “And tigers, and the, um, bears.”

“Oh, my,” Quinn whispers, and Rachel lets out a loud laugh, catching her daughter’s attention.

“That sounds like fun,” Rachel says, grinning at the excitement on Maya’s face. “We should go back sometime, huh?”

Maya nods eagerly, and Rachel scoots over to wrap her arms around her wife and daughter. She kisses Quinn as Maya groans from in between them, making them both laugh and squeeze her tightly in their hug. Then, Maya’s stomach grumbles, and her cheeks turn bright red.

“Sounds like someone’s hungry,” Quinn says with a grin, “Let’s go get some food in you.”

“Pancakes?” Maya asks hopefully. 

“Sounds like a plan.” Quinn shuffles Maya off of the bed and stands up to walk with her to the kitchen. “Mama can meet us out there.”

Quinn and Maya walk out of the room, hand in hand, and it warms Rachel’s heart. She slowly gets up from the bed, walking around to stand in front of their dresser to change her clothes. She pulls off her sleep shirt and grabs a random bra from her drawer, sliding it over her shoulders and fastening the clip on her back. Rachel pauses, looking at herself in the mirror in front of her, and she places her hands on her abdomen, running them over the just noticeable curve of her stomach.

She’s just over fifteen weeks along, safely through her first trimester. It’s been a scary time, these past few months, and they have been extra careful, taking every single possible precaution to ensure that this one doesn’t end how the last one did. Luckily, they made it through the first trimester with no problems, and Rachel is glad to be (mostly) over her constant state of nausea and migraines.

They haven’t told Maya yet, but they will have to soon, with Rachel’s bump growing bigger and bigger each day. It’s still hard for _Rachel_ to wrap her mind around the actual life growing inside of her, so she knows that it surely will take a bit of explanation for their three-year-old daughter. Still, Rachel can’t wait to tell her.

Quinn had carried Maya, and Rachel is so happy to be carrying their second child. Though she adores her mini-me, they used Quinn’s egg this time, and Rachel (not-so) secretly hopes that this child ends up with shiny blonde hair and swirling green eyes. She’ll love their child no matter what they look like, of course, but Rachel can’t deny the appeal of a miniature version of her wife running around the house, playing with their older sister. 

Just the thought brings a smile to Rachel’s face.

Just then, Quinn walks into the room, seeing Rachel standing in front of the mirror, hands cradling her stomach. Her eyes zero on in her stomach, and an expression of what Rachel can only describe as pure adoration washes over Quinn’s face. She steps towards her, placing her hands over Rachel’s.

“You… are radiant,” She murmurs, “And I am so incredibly lucky to be married to someone as stunning as you.”

Rachel blushes, moving Quinn’s hands underneath hers to directly touch her skin. She leaves one hand covering Quinn’s while she lifts her other hand to cup Quinn’s cheek, pulling her down for a gentle kiss. Quinn kisses her back with the love and affection of eight years of being together, and Rachel can’t get over how much she loves this woman.

“You haven’t felt anything yet, right?” Quinn asks, and Rachel shakes her head no in response. “You would know if you did. I didn’t feel anything with Beth until around twenty weeks. Maya I felt earlier, just because I knew what I was feeling for.”

“I can’t wait for that,” Rachel admits with a flush on her cheeks. 

“I can’t wait either,” Her wife husks. Rachel leans up on her toes to press her forehead to Quinn’s.

“I love you,” She whispers, foreheads touching, eyes locked on hers.

Quinn smiles softly. “I love you,” She whispers back, “And I love our daughter, and I love our life together, and I can’t wait for this baby.”

Rachel tilts her head just so and captures her lips in a sweet kiss. 

She loves mornings with her family, and she knows that their lives are only about to get sweeter.


	17. day 17: soulmates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 17! Yes, this is definitely a day late, and I apologize, but I hope to be back on track tonight. I make no promises though. Anyway, this is a soulmate AU where the lyrics of your soulmate's favorite song (at the time) show up on your skin when you turn 18. Rachel turns 18, and, well, she's a bit confused.

The morning of her eighteenth birthday, Rachel wakes up in a rush. She’s officially eighteen, which means today, somewhere on her skin, she’ll find what she’s been waiting for for years. 

She’s going to find out something very personal, something very important too, about her soulmate.

Rachel remembers her dads’ stories, waking up on their eighteenth birthdays and seeing the words scrawled on their skin. Her daddy, Leroy, had found the words, _The smile’s returning to their faces_ , on his arm, and it had brought a smile to his own face. He instantly recognized them as lyrics from _Here Comes the Sun_ by The Beatles. Her dad, Hiram, had found the words just underneath his ribs: _And forever more, that’s how you’ll stay_. Years later, when he met a boy at a bar, humming Nat King Cole’s _Unforgettable_ under his breath, he knew he was the one.

 _The words represent the lyrics from your soulmate’s favorite song_ , her dads had told her. _They’ll appear on you when you turn eighteen, and they’re subject to change at any point. When we got married, ours both changed to a lyric from our wedding song._

They showed her their “tattoos,” and Rachel had marveled at them. She was only seven at the time, and, now, eleven years later, she was about to experience this herself. As a singer, Rachel prides herself on her musical knowledge (and her taste, for that matter). She’s hoping to be pleasantly surprised by what she finds today.

The moment she’s conscious of what day it is, Rachel runs to her bathroom to look in the mirror. She checks over her arms and legs, not seeing anything, and takes off her shirt to look at her torso in the mirror. She looks over her reflection frantically, not seeing any markings, and a moment of fear washes over her at the thought of the lyrics being somewhere more, say, _private_ , or, worse, not having any at all. She checks over her chest and stomach and sides and back several times before she drops her gaze to the floor and suddenly sees it.

On the side of her foot. A short, black scrawling of words.

Immediately, Rachel sits down on the toilet seat, lifting her foot up with her hands in order to read the words.

 _Pack up, I’m straight enough,_ she reads.

Her first reaction is confusion after she doesn’t instantly recognize the song. Her second reaction is to laugh at the lyric, simply because of the implications. (She doubts the song has anything to do with sexuality, but her own sexuality and the circumstance of it being printed on her skin has her laughing, nonetheless.) Her third reaction is to run back to her room, grab her phone, and look up the lyrics.

She finds them fairly easily; they’re the opening words to a song called _Maps_ by some band she’s never heard of. Walking back to the bathroom, Rachel searches the song on YouTube and listens to it while she’s brushing her teeth. It’s not a _bad_ song, per se, but it’s a bit more indie than she typically would go for, and it’s a bit repetitive, in her opinion. Still, she’s not disappointed with the song, and she’s glad that, whoever her soulmate is, they have a unique taste in music.

When she’s done, she checks her messages, seeing a few texts from Mercedes, Kurt, and Tina, wishing her a happy birthday, asking what her lyric is, and to text them as soon as she finds it. Then, she notices one more message from someone she definitely had not expected to hear from today: Quinn Fabray.

 _Happy birthday, Rachel,_ It reads, _Hope you have a great day._

She chooses to respond to them all later. For now, she puts the song on repeat while she finishes up her morning routine. Her friends can wait; Rachel is going to spend this time growing closer to her soulmate and their favorite song.

* * *

Just five days later, the words on her skin change.

She doesn’t even notice it, not at first. It isn’t until her dad points it out to her while they are sitting in the living room, watching a movie, that she notices it.

Gone are the old lyrics, replaced with new words imprinted on her foot. Except these words confuse Rachel even more than the first ones.

_Ní thiocfaidh mé aniar._

What the hell?

This clearly isn’t English, and it certainly isn’t from a song she knows, and she’s frustrated. How is it that she has a soulmate whose favorite song changes within five days of her turning eighteen? She had just become fond of the other song, too!

Instantly, Rachel pulls out her phone to look up the words, with the accents and all. She finds them in a traditional Celtic song first, and she promptly keeps scrolling, praying to whoever is listening that her soulmate’s new favorite song is not this one. Then, she finds another song, _Sleepyhead_ , by another band she’s never heard of. The intro is entirely in Gaelic, but the rest of the lyrics are in English, and Rachel assumes that this is the correct one.

She pauses the movie that she’s watching with her dads to search the song on YouTube and play it. Rachel listens to it with her dads, and, well, she certainly receives the shock she was expecting the first time around.

If she thought the original song was something that she wouldn’t typically listen to, this one goes even beyond that. It’s indie again, but electronic this time, and Rachel nearly shuts it off halfway through. The lyrics, she recognizes, are very poetic and meaningful, but the sound of the song is a lot all at once, even for Rachel.

Still, she listens to the song a few more times that day, trying to find something she likes about it.

* * *

Two days later, the words change again.

This time, Rachel watches them change before her eyes. It’s Christmas day, and she’s upstairs painting her nails while her dads prepare a meal downstairs. They don’t celebrate the holiday as much as other families do, instead going all out for Hanukkah, but her daddy was raised Christian, so they still put up a tree and have a nice meal on the twenty-fifth of December every year.

Rachel is sitting on her bed, painting bright red nail polish onto her toes, when she sees the black print on the side of her foot begin to fade and morph into a different set of words. Again, she’s shocked. How can her soulmate’s favorite song possibly be changing _again_? It has only been a week since her birthday! She can’t say she’s not glad to have the Gaelic print gone from her skin, but her frustration is growing stronger.

The new lyrics appear, and Rachel reads them cautiously.

_Listen to Iron Maiden, baby, with me._

She lets out an audible groan. She’d rather have the Gaelic back.

 _Well,_ Rachel thinks, _At least I know the song this time._

* * *

Two weeks later, on her first day back to school after Winter Break, the lyrics change. Again.

She’s been checking her foot daily, sometimes multiple times a day, because she has come to terms with the fact that this could continue changing every other day, and Rachel’s determined to (and admittedly enjoying) getting to know her soulmate a little better in this way.

She wakes up, instantly looking at her foot, and sees new words there. Whatever it is, she’s glad that the words “Iron Maiden” are erased from her skin. The new lyric she finds there forces a gasp from her mouth and brings a smile to her face.

_My gift is my song, and this one’s for you._

It’s Elton John, and it’s from _Moulin Rouge_ , and it’s an incredibly romantic song. Rachel gets ready for the day, humming the song to herself, and it stays in her head for the remainder of the day.

Later, at Glee, when Mr. Schue welcomes them back from break, he asks if anyone wants to kick things off, and before Rachel can offer to perform, Quinn is standing up and slowly walking towards the piano. She whispers something to Brad, and he nods and gets up, allowing Quinn to sit down at the piano. Rachel is surprised that Quinn, of all people, is performing, and she’s also wondering just how adept Quinn is at playing the piano.

“This is, um,” Quinn says nervously, “I listened to a lot of music over break, and, uh, for whatever reason, I kept coming back around to this song. I just learned it this past weekend, so don’t critique my piano skills too much.”

Rachel is confused about what is about to happen until Quinn begins playing the piano, and every thought suddenly vanishes from Rachel’s mind. Her fingers dance over the keys, and Rachel recognizes the song instantly, her heart dropping out of her chest.

There’s no way. It must be a coincidence. Right?

Rachel watches as Quinn opens her mouth and sings those famous opening words, “ _It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside_ ,” and Rachel melts at the sound. Her alto is a bit shaky, but strong, and it grows in power and volume as she gets further into the song. 

When she gets to the final chorus, Quinn looks up from the keys, finding Rachel’s eyes and not looking away. Rachel’s heart returns to her chest, pounding rapidly, and she can’t seem to break the intense eye contact that Quinn has started. Quinn’s eyes bore into hers as she sings those final words, conveying every emotion she possibly can, and Rachel feels all of them. She feels everything Quinn is trying to say, and it is exhilarating.

Quinn smiles politely at the light smattering of applause she receives before she ducks her head and makes her way back to her seat. Glee Club ends shortly thereafter, when no one else has a song prepared, and Rachel is far too lost in her thoughts to perform anything right now. Mr. Schue gives them their assignment for the week, and everyone takes off, leaving Rachel and Quinn alone in the choir room.

Rachel walks over and sits in the seat next to her, meeting her eyes carefully. “Quinn, that song… It was beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Quinn mutters shyly, “It’s become one of my favorites recently.”

The words draw a gasp from Rachel’s lips, and she is almost certain her theories are confirmed. She looks at Quinn, seeing her eyes shining with so much emotion, and she says, “I know. The… the lyrics showed up on my foot this morning.”

Quinn lets out a deep sigh, dropping her gaze. “Yeah, I figured as much.”

Rachel gasps again. It _is_ Quinn. “How long have you known?” Rachel asks.

“Since I saw the lyrics to Don’t Rain on My Parade show up on my lower back.”

Rachel blushes as Quinn laughs, clearly amused by the whole thing, and a thought occurs to Rachel. “Lower back?” She asks, “Isn’t that where you got your tattoo?”

This time, Quinn blushes as she says, “Yeah… It appeared just before the school year started, on my birthday. I was in denial, so I panicked and ran to the nearest tattoo shop, ID in hand, and I got the first thing I could think of, as big as possible so that it would cover the words up,” She admits, shaking her head in embarrassment. “The next day, the lyric had moved to just beneath the giant face on my back, and I knew I couldn’t fight it anymore.”

“Fight what?” Rachel asks before she can stop herself.

“My feelings for you,” Quinn admits, and Rachel’s jaw drops. “I had been denying them for so long, but once I saw those words on my skin, I couldn't deny the feeling of peace that came over me.”

Rachel can’t believe the words she’s hearing right now. Quinn Fabray has feelings for her. _Romantic_ ones, at that. 

“Can I… Can I see it?” Rachel says shyly.

“The tattoo?” Quinn says, and Rachel just nods in response.

Quinn turns around, showing her back to Rachel, and lifts up the back of her shirt. Sure enough, there is a rather large tramp stamp of Ryan Seacrest’s face, and, just underneath, there is the small, black print of words from Rachel's favorite song.

_Life’s candy, and the sun’s a ball of butter._

Rachel lets out a laugh at the absurdity of the sight. “I must apologize for my predictability, I suppose,” Rachel says through a grin, “Although I must say that some of the lyrics that showed up on my skin were equally not as pleasant as these.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Quinn says, “Like I said, I was getting into a lot of different music over break.”  
  
Rachel scoffs, “Sure, but, _Teenage Dirtbag_ , Quinn? Really?”

Quinn grins. “What can I say? At least it wasn’t _actually_ Iron Maiden.”

Rachel rolls her eyes. “I suppose that’s fair,” She replies. She watches Quinn run a hand through her hair, and she can’t deny the fluttering in her stomach at the sight. “So, what now? I mean, we’re soulmates. I certainly can’t say that I saw this coming.”

“Well, I have to get home to help my mom with dinner,” Quinn explains, “But, you could, you know, come with? If you want to, of course. And then we could talk later?”

Rachel grins. “I would love that.”

“Great,” Quinn smiles, standing up from her seat.

Rachel stands up, sliding her bag onto her back as Quinn does the same. They begin walking out of the choir room, and Rachel grabs Quinn’s hand before she can stop herself. She interlocks their fingers, their palms coming together, and, _yeah_. _This_ is what being soulmates feels like. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs referenced (in order) are as follows:  
> Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> Sleepyhead - Passion Pit  
> Teenage Dirtbag - Wheatus  
> Your Song - Elton John


	18. day 18: doing something together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're on Day 18. Again, apologies for falling behind, but life (and my brain) seem to be getting in the way, so this is a short one. I'm not totally in love with this, but here it is. A little of what I like to imagine happened when Quinn and Rachel were deciding what song to sing for their duet in the Born This Way episode (2x18).

“I assume you already have ideas for songs?”

Rachel startles at Quinn’s words. They are in Rachel’s bedroom, Quinn sitting at her desk while Rachel is on the floor, scouring through her sheet music collection and pulling out her computer. 

Quinn Fabray is in her house, and it’s disconcerting, to say the least. She has been here before, for Rachel’s house party, but she’s never been up in her room, sitting at her desk, looking all too comfortable while Rachel is freaking out internally because Quinn Fabray is in her bedroom, and she doesn’t know what to say or how to act. 

Needless to say, Rachel is feeling a bit nervous about the whole situation. She had asked Quinn to duet with her _and_ to be a model for her nose in the same conversation, the same breath even, which maybe wasn’t her best decision in hindsight. But, for whatever reason, Quinn had agreed to both, so here they are. 

They went to the doctor after school, and now they are back at Rachel’s house to decide on a song for the duet and hopefully get some practicing in. And perhaps Quinn is correct that she has already thought about what they should sing.

Rachel clears her throat. “I do have some songs in mind, but I am more than open to any suggestions you may have,” She says. “Believe it or not, I am quite the collaborator when it comes to duets.”

“So I’ve heard.” Quinn mutters.

Rachel chooses to brush that comment off and pulls the songs she had been thinking about out of her (numerous) binders of music, handing them to Quinn. As Quinn fans through the papers, Rachel explains, “I was thinking we could either do a traditional duet, something like _Popular_ from _Wicked_ , or turn an existing solo song into a duet with some nice harmonies, like _I Feel Pretty_ or _I Am What I Am_.”

Quinn rolls her eyes. “Anything that’s not a show tune?”

“Yes, actually,” Rachel responds, “Although I don’t have the music, something along the lines of _Perfect_ by Pink or _Bulletproof_ by La Roux would work as well.”

Quinn stares at the music for a moment before she tosses it onto the ground, eliciting a gasp from Rachel. She gathers the fallen papers together, and Quinn just watches her, amused. Then, Quinn leaves the desk chair, climbing onto the ground across from Rachel, and takes her laptop. Rachel sits there, speechless, as Quinn mindlessly opens her laptop and does, well, Rachel’s not exactly sure what. All she knows is that Quinn, clearly, is not feeling nearly as nervous as Rachel is right now, and it’s quite a shock to her system.

“What are you doing?” Rachel asks.

“Find us a better song than those,” Quinn mutters, typing away at the keyboard. “All of those songs were just too…”

“Upbeat?”

Quinn shakes her head. “More like… hopeful. Too optimistic.”

Rachel is confused. “Mr. Schuester was pretty clear that our songs are supposed to be about self-love and self-acceptance. How are we supposed to achieve this with a pessimistic song?”

“I’m not saying that we need to sing a funeral dirge, Rachel,” Quinn deadpans, “I’m just saying that it would be a bit hypocritical of us to sing a song like that.”

“Hypocritical? Why?”

Quinn sighs. “You honestly don’t think it would be the slightest bit hypocritical for us to sing a song about loving ourselves for everything that we are when you’re about to get a nose job?”

Rachel inhales sharply, dropping her gaze to the floor. Quinn’s words struck hard, but she’s right. Rachel can’t get up in front of her friends and sing all about loving herself no matter what when she’s in the process of changing her appearance. 

“Well…” Rachel starts, looking back up at Quinn, “What do you have in mind, then?”

Quinn just turns her gaze back to the laptop and continues typing until, “Aha!” She says suddenly. “Something like… this.”

She presses play on the computer, and TLC’s _Unpretty_ begins playing from the speakers. Rachel has heard the song, knows it fairly well, and she has to admit that it is a pretty brilliant choice on Quinn’s part. The lyrics certainly hit home for her, in several ways, and, by the look on Quinn’s face, they seem to hit home for her as well. As she listens to the song, she can already hear potential harmonies in her head, and Rachel is sold on the idea before the song is even over.

The final note plays, and Quinn looks over at Rachel expectantly, raising an eyebrow. Rachel grins and says, “That is a great idea, Quinn.”

“Really?” She asks, sounding surprised.

“Yes, really,” Rachel affirms, “It carries a great message, and I think there are plenty of opportunities for both of our voices to shine.”

“Right, yeah,” Quinn mumbles before saying, “Actually, now that you mentioned _I Feel Pretty_ , I just got another idea.” She opens the keyboard program on Rachel’s computer and plays a few notes as practice. Then, she says, “Can you sing that song for me? Except, slower, like this.”

Quinn plays the melody of _I Feel Pretty_ on the laptop in a slower count, with less subdivided rhythms to hold the notes out a bit longer. Rachel nods and sings the main chorus of the song just as Quinn had demonstrated it for her. A smile lights up on Quinn’s face as Rachel sings through the chorus, and she gestures for her to repeat it one more time.

When Rachel starts the chorus over, Quinn begins singing the chorus of _Unpretty_ just after her. They sing the two songs in contrast, their voices blending and separating and blending again, and the mashup is music to Rachel’s ears. Literally. It’s something that Rachel never would have thought of, to use the show tune in this way, but, now that she’s hearing it, she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to hear it in the same way.

They both finish singing, looking at each other and processing the previous events. Then, Rachel smiles widely, unable not to, and gives Quinn an amazed look.

“Wow, Quinn, that was incredible.” Rachel gushes.

Quinn’s cheeks turn red as she replies, “It’s nothing crazy. I was just thinking that could really highlight our hypocrisies, actually,” Quinn admits, and Rachel looks at her with confusion, prompting her to continue explaining, “We all walk around with these masquerades of feeling beautiful on the outside, making ourselves look as pretty as we can, when, often, we’re struggling to accept ourselves on the inside.”

Rachel is struck speechless by her insight. It’s probably the deepest into Quinn’s psyche that Rachel has ever gotten, and she finds herself only wanting to dig deeper. Who knows what depths hide behind those closed-off hazel eyes?

“That… is brilliant, Quinn,” Rachel says, trying to convey her feelings as much as possible. “Truly brilliant. Definitely better than anything I could have come up with.”

Quinn scoffs with a grin. “I highly doubt that.”

“I’m being honest.”

Then, they’re both silent. Rachel watches Quinn divert her gaze back to the computer in front of her, tapping away at the keys, seemingly working out some kind of background melody in her head. She watches, in awe, as Quinn works away at this track in her head, and Rachel is blown away by just observing her.

Quinn looks up at her. “I’m surprised you haven’t already started assigning us parts and harmonies already.”

Rachel blushes, shaking her head in mild embarrassment. “I mean, if you want me to…” Quinn gestures to her, and Rachel immediately says, “Right! Well, I figure you should take the first verse, and I can take the pre-chorus, and we can come together on the chorus with some harmonies, and—”

She stops talking when she hears Quinn playing what sounds like a loose intro melody into the first verse, and Rachel, yet again, is in awe of her. Then, Quinn stops.

“You were saying?” She asks obliviously.

Rachel just smiles and shakes her head. She’ll never understand the depths of this girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stream I Feel Pretty/Unpretty by the Glee Cast on your streaming service of choice.


	19. day 19: formal wear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're on Day 19! Sorry for the delay, but it's here. This takes place during prom in season three, and it's just an excuse for me to write about the events of that night because I never stop thinking about them.

Sitting in the empty classroom, Quinn wonders how this ever happened.

She just won Prom Queen. By one vote. And, as she told Santana, she doesn’t feel the slightest bit different.

It’s everything she’s ever wanted. For herself, for her mom, for her status. Regardless of her motive, she’s craved this title since her sister won Prom Queen six years earlier. Quinn (then Lucy) had noticed how her parents had fawned over her sister for weeks after, and she became determined to win Prom Queen once she got to high school, no matter what it would take, to get that same kind of love and affection from her parents.

So she did what it took. She dated the quarterback. She joined the Cheerios. She became Head Captain by her sophomore year. She grew her popularity and her status and watched as her parents began to devote more time to her (and probably love her more, too).

Now, six years later, Quinn’s circumstances are drastically different. She no longer lives with her father, she hasn’t spoken to her sister in two and a half years, and, well, she’s just won Prom Queen.

She did it.

But she has no father to love her more or a sister to be proud of her. She has her mom, who is trying her best, Quinn knows, but is still just a silent presence most days at home. Beyond that, nothing.

Winning Prom Queen is everything she’s ever wanted but will make no difference in her life. So when Quinn decides to give Rachel the crown, well, she likes to think that she’s making a difference.

Quinn won by one vote. One single vote pushed her over the edge to victory.

 _I voted for you for Prom Queen_ , Rachel’s voice rings in her ears.

Without Rachel’s vote, Quinn never would have won. And, if she thinks back to a few years ago, she’s sure that she never would have gotten Rachel's vote if she hadn’t changed her ways. If it hadn’t been for Rachel, constantly seeing the best in her and encouraging her not to make poor decisions and looking out for her, Quinn never would have become the person she is today. And, without Quinn changing, for and because of Rachel, she never would have become her friend and received her vote for Prom Queen.

Rachel voted for her, despite their tumultuous past, despite their differences, despite every bad thing Quinn had ever said about or done to her. And, because of that singular vote, she won. It could just as easily have gone to Santana or someone else. Rachel hadn’t even planned on coming to the dance tonight. But she did, for whatever reason, and she cast her vote for Quinn.

It was a string of chances, a string of fate, that lead to this. How could Quinn ever repay her?

The answer slaps her in the face.

Santana’s confused when Quinn says that they should give the crown to Rachel. And understandably so. But when Quinn simply looks at her, really _looks_ at her, it all seems to dawn on her, and Santana just nods and writes _Rachel Berry_ below Finn’s name on the winners’ card before tucking it in the envelope and sealing it shut.

She knows she made the right decision when she sees Rachel in the hall as the night draws to an end. She’s heading down the hallway, toward the exit, when she hears Rachel behind her. Really, she hears Rachel and Finn, and she spins herself around to see Rachel whisper something in Finn’s ear, press a kiss to his cheek, and walk up to her as Finn passes by them both, giving Quinn a little wave.

(All Quinn can think about is just hours earlier when he had tried to force her out of her wheelchair in the middle of the dance floor.)

Thankfully, Rachel’s voice distracts her before she can dwell too much on that. 

“Quinn, hi, again,” She says softly, adjusting the crown on her head.

“Hey, Rachel,” Quinn replies with a smile. “Congratulations.”

Rachel shakes her head shyly. “Thank you, Quinn. Really, thank you.” At Quinn’s confused expression, Rachel explains, “I know you and Santana were in charge of counting the votes, and you and I both know that there’s no way the student body would ever have voted to give me this crown.”

Quinn panics, trying to scramble together some kind of excuse. What does she say? Say it was Santana’s idea? Own up to it? Outright deny it? 

She takes a deep breath, bracing herself for impact. “Rachel, I—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Rachel interrupts. “I know you only had good intentions. And it really did make my night, so I just wanted to say thank you and let you know how much I appreciate it. Whatever led you and Santana to that decision, it made me happy, the happiest I’ve been in a while, and that’s thanks to you, so I wanted to make sure I got the chance to tell you.”

Quinn smiles shyly, her eyes falling to her lap. “I’m glad to hear that,” She mumbles before meeting Rachel’s eyes. “You deserve it, Rachel. You really do, especially after everything that we put you through.”

“Thank you, Quinn,” Rachel says. “It really means a lot, coming from you. When I said earlier that becoming your friend would be the one thing I will look back on proudly, I really did mean it.”

Quinn is taken aback, yet again. When Rachel had said it earlier, she had been speechless, and, hearing it a second time, she is just as speechless. Rachel has no idea the power her words hold over Quinn, and it astonishes her every time.

“I never could’ve become who I am today without you,” Quinn admits, “So I suppose we’re even.”

Rachel grins at her. “I suppose we are.”

Quinn looks up at Rachel, watching her hesitate for a moment before moving to hug her. Instead, Quinn holds up a hand to stop her and, with all of the will she can manage, plants her feet on the ground and hoists herself up from her wheelchair. She grips the armrests tightly as she brings herself to her feet, and Rachel instantly steps forward, holding onto her arms to keep her steady.

Her legs are a bit shaky, quivering, especially after she performed half of her duet with Santana standing up, but she can’t help herself. Rachel meets her eyes, their faces inches apart, a concerned look on her face.

Quinn just shrugs in response. “I’m so tired of hugging people from that damn chair.”

Rachel giggles and wraps her arms around Quinn’s back, pulling her tightly against herself. Quinn responds in kind, draping her arms around Rachel’s shoulders. Their bodies fit together in a way that they never did with any of her former boyfriends, and the thought simultaneously breaks her heart and pieces it back together again. With Rachel’s arms around her back and her head resting on her shoulder, Quinn has never felt more at home.

Rachel pulls away, just slightly, as she helps Quinn sit back down in her wheelchair. Once she’s seated, her feet resting comfortably on the footrests, Quinn lets out a sigh of relief. Looking up at Rachel, her breath is taken away.

“Rachel, can I just say…” Quinn starts before she can think twice about it, “You look so beautiful in that dress. Really, you do.”

Rachel smiles a shy little grin, her head dropping and cheeks turning red. “Thank you, Quinn. And you look radiant, as always. Any boy would be lucky to be on your arm tonight.”

Quinn’s heart twists at her words, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach. But now is definitely not the time for her to correct that statement, not with the bright smile on Rachel’s face, so Quinn just says, “Thanks.”

Then, it’s silent as they just look at each other, Rachel with admiration gleaming in her eyes, Quinn with something a bit stronger than admiration buried in hers. 

Rachel breaks the silence. “I should probably get going. Finn’s waiting outside for me.”

“Yeah, of course.” Quinn replies, watching Rachel walk off. She’s about to walk out the doors when Quinn says, “Rachel?”

She stops in her tracks. “Yeah?”

“I just wanted to say…” Quinn pauses to take a breath. “You asked earlier if I understood what I mean to you. I just want to let you know that you mean just as much to me. And you said that I deserve Prom Queen, but I really believe that you do. You deserve it, and you deserve the best life in New York, so much better than what you have right now. I hope you know that.”

She leaves out the implied, _You deserve better than Finn_ , but Quinn hopes that Rachel gets the message. 

Eyes shining, Rachel nods solemnly. “I do.”

She turns and heads out of the building, leaving Quinn alone in the hallway. Suddenly, tears come to her eyes, and she lets them fall down her cheeks and onto her dress.

Her senior prom is nothing like what Quinn had imagined it to be. She’s by herself, sitting in a wheelchair, and she gave her crown away. But she gave it to the girl she loves, and maybe, just maybe, that can be enough for her.


	20. day 20: dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're here for Day 20! We're two-thirds of the way through, how absolutely wild is that? I hope you're all enjoying these. This one features prom and a secret relationship. It's also inspired by the song "Dance with You" from the musical The Prom. I borrowed some lines from the song, as well as some from other songs in the show, so I would highly recommend listening to them after reading. I'll leave the titles for you at the end. Hope you enjoy!

Prom-posals, as far as Quinn Fabray is concerned, are the most obnoxious displays of male entitlement that have ever existed. They are nothing more than a way for teenage boys to guilt-trip teenage girls into attending a dance with them, to pressure girls into saying yes because they’re in public and it would be embarrassing if they said no. They’re over-the-top, overdone, overrated, and Quinn is over them.

That being said, Quinn would love to be able to ask her girlfriend to Prom, or even go with her girlfriend to Prom, in public, but that’s not going to happen. So, instead, she’s going to be bitter.

Like now, as she’s sitting in Mr. Schue’s Spanish class, and Rick Nelson walks in, interrupting class, with a giant poster that reads, _Don’t say no! Prom without you would be no bueno!_ He walks directly up to Missy Gunderson, sitting in the front row, and asks her the fated question.

Quinn rolls her eyes at the scene, resisting the urge to get up and walk out of the room. She’s sick of it. She’s sick of seeing these people get to flaunt their love for all to see while she has to hide in the shadows, in the darkness, in the secret places and stolen moments.

It’s not fair.

It isn’t.

Later that day, when she voices her frustration to her girlfriend, Rachel doesn’t respond how she expects her to. They’re laying on Rachel’s bed, Rachel’s head resting on her shoulder as they stare up at the ceiling above them. Quinn talks about the annoyance of what happened in Spanish earlier that day, and Rachel shrugs.

“I think it’s sweet,” She says.

Quinn turns her head to look at her, confused. “Sweet? Rachel, it’s annoying.”

Rachel keeps staring up at the ceiling, oblivious to Quinn’s glaring. “No, it isn’t,” She mumbles.

“Rach, half of the girls that get asked by these guys don’t even want to go to the dance with them,” Quinn explains, desperate to get through to her girlfriend. “They have no choice but to say yes because they’re in public.”

“Sure, but what about the other half that do want to?” Rachel asks innocently.

“What about them?”

Rachel sighs. “It’s a really romantic gesture, and I just think it would be something really nice to experience.”

Quinn sits up, letting Rachel’s head fall onto the pillow underneath her. “What, do you want me to pay Finn to Prom-pose to you? I mean, really?”

Rachel jerks straight up. She sits across from Quinn, tucking her legs under herself, and eyeing Quinn incredulously. “No, of course not,” She denies vehemently. “Why would I want that?”

“Because you’re talking about how much you love this idea of a public gesture to ask you to Prom when you _know_ I can’t give that to you.” Quinn states fiercely. She’s trying to simmer her temper, but she’s been in a pissy mood all day, and this conversation is certainly not helping.

“I know you can’t, Quinn. Believe me, I’m aware,” Rachel retorts. “I’m simply saying that it seems like it would be nice. That’s all.”

Quinn can’t help but let her mind run wild with insecurities. What is she supposed to think when Rachel says that she wants a public gesture? Quinn can’t give that to her. Not now, at least. They’ve been dating for nearly eight months, completely in secret. The only people that know are Rachel’s dads, because they needed some place to be able to spend time, and Mercedes, because they’re both close with her and they wanted to tell someone else. For a multitude of reasons, it’s just the five of them that know the true nature of their relationship.

They can’t come out at school, for fear of bullying (they saw what happened to Kurt), for fear of isolation, for fear of social status decline. They’re reluctant to tell any of their other friends simply because they know how quickly gossip travels around their school. Quinn refuses to tell Judy out of fear of being disowned for a second time. So it’s just Rachel, Quinn, Hiram, Leroy, and Mercedes.

It’s sad and scary at times, but they make it work. Having Rachel in secret is better than not having her at all.

But, right now, Quinn can’t stop herself from feeling a bit affronted by Rachel’s words.

“Rachel, is there something else going on here?” She asks, voice taking on an accusatory tone.

“What do you mean?”

“You… You’ve never talked about stuff like this before,” Quinn says, “Baby, you know I wish I could tell the whole school how much I adore you.”

Rachel huffs. “Why can’t you?”

Quinn opens her mouth to respond and quickly snaps it shut. She watches Rachel as she plays with the fabric of the blanket under them, eyes glued to her hands. 

Why can’t she? What kind of a question is that? Quinn has officially lost her girlfriend here. They had agreed months ago that keeping their relationship a secret would be the best for both of them.

At Quinn’s silence, Rachel continues, saying, “I-I mean, I don’t need any kind of grandiose statement or-or gesture, and I don’t think we need to blaze any kind of trail, but I just…”

“You just what?” Quinn asks gently.

“I just wanna dance with you, Quinn,” Rachel admits softly. “Why can’t we have that? We can go to the dance together, or separately, or whatever, I don’t care. I just want to stand on that dance floor and dance with you.”

Quinn’s eyes widen. “Rach, I… I wanna dance with you, too. But we can dance whenever we want. We don’t need the whole production, with streamers and confetti and people we don’t know.”

“But what if I want that?”

Quinn pauses, processing her words. As much as she wants those things, she knows they can’t have them. Not with the school that they go to. “I want those things, too, but what about everyone else? What they might say? Or do?”

“Who cares what other people say?” Rachel says, “All I care about is you. You, and me, and a song. That’s all I need. That's all I want.”

Quinn can’t deny the appeal of the idea. Getting to go to Prom with her girlfriend, slow-dancing with her in front of the whole school, without a single care in the world besides the two of them. But, “Rach, my mom could find out. You know what she’s like.”

“I know, but can you at least consider it? Please?” Rachel begs.

“Rach…” Quinn looks at her girlfriend, her brown eyes pleading with her. Sighing, she says, “I’m just not sure.”

Just then, Hiram calls from downstairs that dinner is ready, and Rachel gets up from the bed and walks towards the door. She gives Quinn a meaningful look before she opens the door and leaves Quinn alone in her room. Quinn sighs, burying her head in her hands.

Now _she’s_ the one being guilt-tripped into going to the dance with someone. What a turn of events.

* * *

Standing outside the gym, Quinn nervously rubs her hands on her dress. It’s a month later, and it’s the night of Prom, and Quinn is here, in a baby blue dress, hair pulled back in a simple updo, feeling like she could vomit any second. She’s here with Sam, who had asked her to the dance, as friends, and Quinn hadn’t had a good excuse to say no. Rachel is already inside with Mercedes and Kurt, and Quinn has yet to see her tonight since she and Sam went out for dinner while the other three got ready together at Rachel’s house and came straight to school from there.

Now, Quinn is here, about to walk into the school gym, and she’s panicking. 

She and Rachel had agreed to come separately, and Quinn is regretting it. She wishes she was standing here with her girlfriend, and they could walk into the gym, hand in hand, and that would be that. Instead, she’s here with Sam, who is a great guy, but it’s not the same. Quinn just wishes she could be holding Rachel’s hand right now.

So, in true Quinn Fabray fashion, she pushes her worries down, puts a cold look on her face, and struts into the gym. Sam stumbles to catch up with her, and she pans the room, looking for a familiar face. She spots Mercedes from across the room and heads in her direction, Sam, yet again, stumbling behind her at her sudden change of direction. As they get closer, she sees Kurt standing next to Mercedes, and, then, she sees Rachel.

She stops in her tracks. Sam stops next to her, confused, but Quinn can’t tear her eyes away from the sight before her.

Rachel is there, looking absolutely gorgeous in a soft, pink dress, her hair curled and falling easily around her shoulders, a corsage–a pristine, white gardenia–on her wrist that matches Quinn’s, and her breath catches in her throat. She’s easily the most beautiful girl Quinn has ever laid eyes on, and Quinn can’t believe that she’s hers.

Sam eyes her curiously. “Quinn? Let’s go.”

She blinks twice, glances up at Sam, and continues walking in their direction. She stops in front of them, doing her best to avoid Rachel’s fierce gaze. For now, at least.

“Hey, guys,” She greets. “You all look incredible.”

Mercedes wolf-whistles with a grin. “Quinn, you look hot!”

Blushing, Quinn mumbles her thanks, her eyes shifting to look at Rachel. She’s staring back at her, eyes gleaming with unabashed affection, and Quinn’s heart flutters in her chest. Clearing her throat, Rachel says, “Quinn, Mercedes is correct, you look… amazing.”

Quinn smiles shyly at the reverent tone in Rachel’s voice. “Thank you,” She mutters.

Mercedes grins, looking between them knowingly, while Sam and Kurt share a look of equal confusion. Then, an upbeat song starts playing, and, before she knows it, Sam is dragging her onto the dance floor, with Kurt pulling Mercedes and Rachel with him just behind them. They find Tina, Mike, Brittany, and Santana, and all of them dance together for a while. Quinn has the best time dancing with all of her friends (and her girlfriend), but, when the music eventually transitions into slower songs, she’s glad for the chance to take a break and catch her breath. 

She’s about to walk off of the dance floor when Rachel grabs her wrist. She turns, meeting Rachel’s eyes, and sees a pleading look in them. 

Quinn stops. She sees the love in Rachel’s eyes, and she wants nothing more than to stay here with her. She wants to stand here, pull her girlfriend close, and slow-dance with her. She really does. But when Quinn looks away from her eyes at the crowds of people around them, her heart clenches with fear. 

She jerks her wrist out from Rachel’s grasp and gives her an apologetic look. Rachel’s face drops, and Quinn walks off, out of the gym, unable to see her girlfriend looking so heartbroken and knowing that it is all her fault.

She makes it halfway down the hall before she hears someone call her name. Spinning around, Quinn is surprised to see Sam chasing after her, and she stops and waits for him to catch up to her. 

Panting, he just says, “Quinn? What’s going on?” Quinn opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, and he continues, “Is it something with Rachel? What happened in there?”

Her eyes grow moist, and she just laughs. “ _She_ happened, that’s what happened.” 

Sam raises an eyebrow in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

Quinn just sighs, letting the tears fall from her eyes, and says, “It means she came into my life and turned it completely around, and now I’m ruining it for both of us.” She explains. Once the words are out of her mouth, she can't find it in herself to stop. “She wants us to dance together, in there, in front of everyone, and I just–I can’t, Sam. Not with all of those people in there. Not with my life.”

“You–Oh,” Sam says, realization dawning on him. 

Quinn stares at him nervously, terrified of how he’ll react. He looks back at her, his eyebrows raised high, and he just steps forward and pulls her into a hug. Surprised, Quinn doesn’t even have time to wrap her arms around him before he’s pulling back and looking at her sincerely.

“You gotta dance with her,” He says.

Quinn’s jaw drops. “I, what?”

Sam grabs her hand and begins to lead her back to the gym. “You gotta dance with her, Quinn,” He repeats.

Quinn stops walking, pulling Sam back with her. “I can’t. I told you that.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, Sam, I can’t,” She insists. “I’m… I’m terrified. I could lose everything. My status, my home, my mom. I can’t.”

Sam pauses and looks at her intently before saying, “Would you rather lose her instead?”

“You can’t ask me that.” Quinn refutes. “That’s–she would never…. I can’t lose her. I _won’t_ lose her.”

“You might if you don’t get your ass in there and dance with her,” He says. “I’ve got your back. So does Mercedes, I’m sure, and Kurt, and the rest of Glee Club. And, most importantly, Rachel.”

Quinn looks away from him, debating her options. She wants to dance with Rachel. She wants to be with Rachel. It’s as simple as that. 

_You, and me, and a song,_ She hears Rachel’s voice echoing in her head, _That’s all I need. That’s all I want._

She can do this. She can go and dance with her girlfriend in front of the school, potential disastrous outcomes be damned. She can do this for Rachel. And for herself.

Determined look settling on her face, Quinn spins on her heel and struts into the gym, Sam trailing her from behind. She easily spots out Rachel this time and walks straight toward her. When she stops in front of her, Rachel looks up, tear stains evident on her cheeks, and Quinn’s heart breaks at the sight. At Rachel’s confused expression, Quinn just holds out a hand to her.

“May I have this dance?” She asks softly.

Rachel gasps. “Quinn, what—” She cuts herself off, looking deeply into Quinn’s eyes, and grins shyly. Placing her hand in Quinn’s, she just responds, “Yes, you may.”

Grinning, Quinn pulls Rachel up from her seat and leads her onto the dance floor. They find an empty spot amidst the rest of the dancing couples, and Quinn raises their hands, placing her other hand on Rachel’s hip. Rachel rests her free hand on Quinn’s shoulder, and Quinn begins to lead them in a slow sway.

She ducks her head to meet Rachel’s eyes. “I didn’t get the chance to tell you earlier, but you look so beautiful, Rach.”

Rachel blushes fiercely, saying, “Thank you, Quinn.”

The song fades away and is quickly replaced by another slow song, and Quinn smiles. She looks at Rachel, seeing the pure expression of happiness on her face, and she wonders how she could have ever considered not doing this with her.

“I’m sorry, baby,” She blurts out quietly, drawing Rachel’s attention. “I’m sorry for not coming with you tonight, and I’m sorry for walking out on you earlier.”

“What changed your mind?” Rachel asks softly. “What about your mom?”

Quinn just shrugs. “Losing you would be worse.”

A look of awe passes over her face, and Quinn smiles brightly. She brings their joined hands up to her face, pressing a kiss to Rachel's hand before letting it fall onto her shoulder, and Quinn wraps both of her hands loosely around her back. In turn, Rachel wraps her arms around Quinn’s neck, pulling them closer together, and rests her forehead against hers.

Suddenly, Quinn is aware of the large number of people surrounding them, and her eyes close shut to try to block them out. Rachel moves one of her hands to her chin, lifting it slightly, and Quinn’s eyes flutter back open to meet hers.

“Hey,” Rachel whispers, “Just you, me, and a song, remember?”

Quinn nods slightly against Rachel. “Just you, me, and a song.”

Rachel smiles and locks her hands behind Quinn’s neck. “I love you, Quinn.”

“I love you, too, Rachel.” She whispers back.

As she slow-dances here, with Rachel, the world around them melts away, and all Quinn can perceive is the feeling of Rachel’s arms around her neck, Rachel’s head pressed against hers, Rachel’s eyes looking into hers, and the song softly playing in the background. It really is just her, Rachel, and the song, and Quinn knows she would’ve been an idiot to ever pass this up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs referenced include:  
> Dance with You  
> You Happened  
> Alyssa Greene  
> Unruly Heart
> 
> All from the Original Broadway Cast Recording of The Prom! Bonus points to anyone who spots all of the references.


	21. day 21: cooking/baking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 21! We're gonna keep pretending I'm not late with these updates. In which Rachel bakes I'm Sorry cookies for Quinn after an argument.

If there’s one thing Rachel knows how to do in the kitchen, it is to bake. Not many things, mind you, but she has perfected one specific recipe over the years: her _I’m Sorry_ cookies. 

It’s a simple, vegan sugar cookie recipe that she found when she was nine, and she hasn’t stopped making them since. And, both fortunately and unfortunately, this acquired skill of hers still continues to come in handy.

Like today, as she’s standing in the Whole Foods near her apartment, getting together her ingredients for said cookies. Rachel has most of the essentials at home, like vegan butter, salt, and soy milk, but she needs to pick up a few of her vegan substitute ingredients that she doesn’t typically have buried in her cabinets, especially considering her lack of cooking talent and how often she eats out rather than cooking for herself.

Though, recently, she has been eating more homemade meals, all thanks to Quinn. Unlike Rachel, Quinn is quite skilled in the kitchen. She often claims it is due to her traditional upbringing, always helping her mom in the kitchen while her dad sat on the couch and watched TV, but Rachel doesn’t let her brush off her skills so easily. She’s always complimenting Quinn on her cooking abilities, especially with her willingness to try new vegan recipes and find vegan substitutes for her favorite recipes. Rachel knows she’s lucky, the luckiest, to have such a kind, thoughtful girlfriend.

Which is why making these cookies stings just a little bit more than usual this time around.

They have been dating for just under three months, and, while this isn’t their first argument, it certainly has been their biggest so far, ending with Quinn leaving Rachel’s apartment last night in a rush. Rachel can’t even remember what they had been arguing over in the first place, but it had escalated quickly, and they had both said some not great things to each other.

Needless to say, Rachel regrets the incident. Hence her shopping for vegan cookie ingredients.

She turns the aisle, letting out a little noise of triumph when she finds the organic sugar she needs. Mentally crossing it off of her list, Rachel continues walking through the store to find the rest of her ingredients. She finds the pumpkin purée next, putting it in her basket, and backtracks to grab an extra stick of vegan butter, just in case. As she’s heading to check out, her phone starts to ring in her pocket, and Rachel stops, pulls it out, and accepts the call.

“Hello?” She asks into her phone.

" _Are you at the store right now?_ ” She hears Kurt’s voice coming through the speaker.

“Yeah, why?”

Voice quieter than before, he says, “ _Can you pick up a bottle of my moisturizer?_ ”

“Kurt, really?” Rachel huffs. “That stuff is expensive!”

“ _Rachel, please, I need it to get ready for my date tonight. I’ll give you the money when you get back home_ ,” Kurt explains. “ _Wait, why are you even at the store? Didn’t you just go shopping a few days ago?_ ”

Rachel sighs into her phone. “Yeah, I, um, needed stuff for cookies.”

“ _I_ _’m sorry cookies? Did something happen with Quinn? Is everything alright?_ ”

“Everything’s fine,” She insists. “Or, at least, it will be. I’ve got to go. You better be waiting with my money when I get back.”

Hearing his confirmation, Rachel ends the call and walks to go get Kurt’s (ridiculously expensive) special moisturizer. She’s reading the label as she walks to check out, and a part of her moral conscience dies when she reads that the product is tested on animals. Kurt owes her big time.

* * *

When she gets back to their apartment, Rachel is greeted by Kurt (and the money for the moisturizer). She hands him the bottle, and he rushes off to the bathroom. Shaking her head in mild amusement, Rachel heads into the kitchen and starts taking out all of her ingredients and the bowls she needs. She begins to mix her butter into a cream as she thinks about yesterday’s debacle with Quinn. 

Quinn had come over after work to have dinner with Rachel as they often do during the week. Rachel is workshopping a show right now, so her schedule happens to currently align with her girlfriend’s, and she is so glad for that. They had been sitting at the table, eating food Rachel had picked up on her way home, when Quinn had mentioned potentially going out this weekend with some friends.

_“Oh, with who?” Rachel had asked curiously._

_“Just some coworkers,” Quinn had said. “Jackson, Katie, Carter, and, uh, Naomi.”_

_Rachel’s ears had perked up at the final name. “Naomi?” She had asked. “The girl who has a raging crush on you?”_

_“I guess, yeah,” Quinn had said nonchalantly._

_Rachel’s mind began to wander, remembering the times Quinn had mentioned her coworker, Naomi, in passing and how she had made her interest in Quinn blatantly obvious and had even asked her out once. Quinn had declined politely, and this had happened before she and Rachel had even gotten together. Then, a thought had occurred to Rachel._

_“Does she know we’re together?” Rachel had asked. “Have you mentioned it at all?”_

_Quinn had shrugged. “Um, I think so.”_

_“You think so?” She had retorted before she could stop herself._

From there, Rachel’s jealousy had spun a bit out of control, making Quinn grow defensive, and, quickly, the conversation had devolved into a full-blown argument. Rachel’s insecurities had run rampant, and Quinn had responded in kind; insults and scathing remarks had been hurled, leaving them both upset and in tears, and Quinn had stormed out of the apartment rapidly, leaving her barely touched plate of food sitting at the table.

Rachel had cried for a long while, an hour at least, until Kurt had gotten home, and Rachel had quickly attempted to wipe her tears away to avoid any questions from Kurt. She’d retreated to her room, a plan formulating in her head.

A plan that currently has her mixing ingredients together to make cookies to bring to her girlfriend’s house in a few hours when she is off of work and (presumably) back at her apartment. When she finishes mixing everything together into a nice, soft dough, Rachel puts the bowl into the freezer, setting a timer on her phone for fifteen minutes. She goes to sit down at the table, taking out her phone and going to her texts. 

She clicks on her thread with Quinn, reading through their most recent messages. They haven’t spoken since yesterday, and Rachel isn’t gonna lie and say that she doesn’t already miss her. She’s been known to be a bit needy at times, so it isn’t a big surprise that she finds herself missing Quinn after not even twenty-four hours of not speaking to her. Still, she does, and she can’t stop herself from smiling at their texts from yesterday. It had just been a few sporadic messages throughout the day, ending with a text from Quinn saying she was leaving work and couldn’t wait to see her.

Rachel sighs, closing her texts and opening her photos. She’s scrolling through the pictures of her and Quinn on her phone when the timer goes off, and she gets up to take her dough out of the freezer. Satisfied with the consistency, she places the bowl on the counter, grabs the rolling pin and her star-shaped cookie cutters, and gets to work. About two minutes in, she hears Kurt leave his room and head towards the door.

“Kurt? Are you going somewhere?” Rachel turns and asks him.

“Huh?” He says, “Oh, yeah, I’m heading out for a bit.”

“For your date?”

Kurt pauses his motions, eyeing her with confusion. “My what?”

Rachel raises an eyebrow carefully. “Your date? The one you insisted that I just _had_ to buy your moisturizer for?”

His face lights up with recognition. “Right, my date! Yeah, that’s where I’m going. See you later, Rachel!”

He quickly slips his shoes on and bolts out the door. Shaking her head, Rachel turns back to her cookies and continues cutting the dough into star shapes. For a moment, she thinks she hears someone talking outside of the apartment door, and then she hears the door open back up.

Rachel turns around again to face the door to the apartment. “Kurt, did you forget some—”

She cuts herself off at the sight of Quinn, standing in the entryway to the apartment. She’s holding flowers in one hand, a container in another, and looking at Rachel with a desperate gleam in her eyes.

“Quinn?”

Quinn takes a deep breath, kicking her shoes off, before she slowly paces towards Rachel. Rachel meets her halfway, and Quinn wordlessly offers her the flowers, a bouquet of white tulips, she can now recognize up close, and she accepts them easily.

Quinn licks her lips nervously. “Rach, I…” She trails off, taking another deep breath before continuing, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the things I said yesterday, and for not considering your point of view more, and for not trying to understand your feelings better, and for how I just left, and I’m just… I’m really sorry, Rachel.”

Her head drops to face the ground, and Rachel is left speechless. “I thought you didn’t get off of work for a few hours?” She asks, unable to find any other words.

“I took off today. Called in last night.”

Rachel gasps with the realization that this has probably been tearing Quinn up just as much as it has been tearing her up. “You… why?”

Quinn shrugs. “I didn’t want to have to deal with seeing everyone today.”

Rachel brings her spare hand to lift Quinn’s chin up to meet her eyes, saying, “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I shouldn’t have overreacted as much as I did. I let my insecurities get the best of me, and I should have trusted you when you said it didn’t matter about Naomi because you’re with me, but I just… I just can’t believe it sometimes.”

“Can’t believe what?” Quinn asks.

“That you’re with me, and you chose to be with me.” Rachel admits with a frown. “There’s just so many other girls out there, and finding out that you hadn’t told your coworkers about us yet just made me feel very insecure.”

Quinn sighs, grabbing Rachel’s hand and squeezing it tightly. “Rach, that was my mistake, and I’m sorry for that. I haven’t told anyone at work yet mostly because this thing between us is so new, and I’ve been worried that _you_ were gonna think this was a mistake, and—”

“Baby, no,” Rachel interrupts, “I love… being with you and having you as my girlfriend. This isn’t a mistake.”

“I love being with you, too,” Quinn says shyly. “And, Rach, it didn’t really occur to me because, well, there’s no other girls for me. It’s just you.”

Rachel’s heart flutters in her chest at Quinn’s admission, and she blushes intensely, squeezing her hand tightly in her own. It’s then that she notices the container in Quinn’s other hand and asks, “What’s that?”

Quinn glances down with a blush. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just… here.”

She hands Rachel the container, and Rachel sets the flowers down on the table to take it, releasing Quinn’s hand in the process. She opens the container, a plastic, Tupperware one, and gasps at what she sees.

“You made me _I’m Sorry_ cookies?”

Quinn nods, cheeks turning red. “It’s kind of dumb, but I know how you used to make them, so I thought it would be a nice gesture.”

A wide grin grows on Rachel’s face. “God, I love you,” She blurts out before she realizes what she’s just said. She looks up at Quinn, her mouth agape and her eyes wide, and Rachel clears her throat. “I mean, I, uh…”

“You love me?” Quinn asks softly, reverently, almost. Rachel nods shyly in response, and Quinn’s face lights up with a smile. “I love you, too.” She says.

Rachel’s elated, and she sets the cookies down on the table before stepping forward and pressing her lips to her girlfriend’s. Quinn smiles into the kiss as she wraps her arms around Rachel’s lower back and pulls their bodies tightly together. 

After a few seconds, Quinn tilts her head back and nods to the kitchen behind Rachel. “What’s going on in there?”

“Oh, I, um,” Rachel starts, growing embarrassed. “I was making _I’m Sorry_ cookies, too.”

Quinn lets out a loose laugh. “God, I really love you.” She kisses her again, and Rachel is happy to comply. 

She’s here, with her girlfriend, who she loves and who loves her, and, if they spend the rest of the evening finishing up Rachel’s cookies, snacking on leftovers from last night's meals, and professing their love for each other, Rachel isn’t going to complain.


	22. day 22: competition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve made it to Day 22! This revolves heavily around Quinn Fabray playing soccer, so sorry if you’re not into that, but I had so much fun writing this, so I hope you’ll give it a chance at least. I played soccer for about twelve years growing up, so I couldn’t not write this. Also, I barely proofread this to get it out quickly, so sorry for any mistakes. Enjoy!

The sun is beating down fiercely on what is possibly the biggest game of Quinn’s high school soccer career. It’s her senior year, nearing the end of the spring girls’ soccer season, and Quinn is about to play against Carmel High in the OHSAA state semifinals. If they win this game, they’ll go to the finals for the third year in a row where they are basically guaranteed winners; the team they’re set to play is the same team they beat in the finals the past two years. 

Their team is known statewide, with nationally-renowned high school soccer coach, Coach Sylvester, and her grueling practice methods. In addition, they have been led to victory for the past two years with the leadership of Quinn Fabray, who became the Team Captain in just her sophomore year. (The upperclassmen had been pissed, but Coach Sylvester had not budged for one second.)

For Quinn, leadership came nearly effortlessly. As center midfielder, she naturally interacts with both the offense and defense, giving commands and acting as a communicator between the two. She had been shocked to be given the role so early on, but Coach Sue had the utmost confidence in her, and Quinn had found her feet fairly quickly.

Today, years and years of practice are coming to a head. Today, she’ll play this game, on home turf, thankfully, and give it her all. She’s gonna leave it all out on the field simply because she has no other option.

“Alright, everyone line up!” Quinn shouts to her team at the start of the warm-up clock. They all roll their eyes but fall in two lines at her command. Quinn steps to the front of one line, Santana leading the other line, and she leads a light jog halfway down the field and back. They continue their warm-ups in these two lines, Quinn and Santana leading the exercises and Brittany replacing Santana to help Quinn lead the stretches thereafter.

Not only are Brittany and Santana two of Quinn’s best friends, but they are also two of the team’s star players, along with Quinn. Santana is a fierce striker, responsible for scoring the majority of the team’s points; Brittany is an all-around star player, able to play pretty much anywhere, but she is their main goalkeeper and occasional center back. The three of them, together, are a force to be reckoned with, dominating the center of the field and anyone who tries to cross their paths. Quinn may be the Captain, but Brittany and Santana are definitely her right hand women.

After warming up and stretching, they all partner up and do some quick passing drills before splitting up for shooting practice and defensive drills. Before she knows it, the referee is blowing the whistle and calling for the captains.

Quinn jogs over to the center of the field, watching the other team’s captain slowly walk over. She sees the snarling look on her face, and Quinn already knows she’s out for blood.

As she waits, she looks into the half-filled bleachers, immediately finding her little group of fans. It’s mostly Glee kids, Tina, Mike, Sam, Kurt, there to support her, Santana, and Brittany. With them is Mercedes, Quinn’s best friend and biggest emotional support, and Rachel, Quinn’s girlfriend of almost a year.

She looks at them and gives them a wave, and they all cheer loudly for her. Mercedes and Rachel are the loudest, by far, and Quinn can’t help but be flooded with an overwhelming feeling of love. It’s been tough these past few years: coming to terms with her sexuality, losing her father in the process, leading a soccer team to consecutive victories while also keeping up her schoolwork and making time for her friends. Now, she’s heading off to Yale next year, has a wonderful relationship with her mom, amazing friends, and the best girlfriend ever. All of her struggles have been more than worth it, and this final championship title would just be the icing on the cake.

She faces the Carmel team captain, Number Fourteen, she notes, and reaches out to shake her hand. Number Fourteen, a tall, muscular, dark-haired girl, grips her hand a little too tightly for comfort, but Quinn doesn’t let her discomfort show. Instead, she lets her face settle into a mild sneer, pursing her lips as she releases her hand. The referee flips the coin,Fourteen calling it in the air, and she calls it correctly. She gives Quinn’s team the kickoff, choosing her side of the field, which isn’t surprising, and they shake hands again before they return to their sides of the field. 

Before she knows it, the warm-up clock has just two minutes left, and she calls her team into a huddle. They all form a circle around her, Santana and Brittany on each side of her, and Quinn looks around at all of them. “This is it, guys,” She states firmly. “I don’t have another pep talk for today. I’ve gotta save that for when we make it to the finals. I just need you all to play your hearts out, to play with everything you’ve got. And when you run out, you need to dig deep and find some more because we don’t have another option.”

Santana clears her throat and shouts, “You heard her! Play your fucking hearts out today!”

She counts to three, they all shout Titans, and the buzzer goes off, alerting them to take their places on the field. Quinn runs out to her place, sees Santana directly in front of her, Brittany behind her in the goal, and feels a sense of comfort. She looks to the crowd one last time, seeing her friends and girlfriend cheering for her, and releases a deep breath.

The referee blows her whistle, and the game begins.

* * *

At the start of the second half, Quinn is feeling refreshed, still going strong. They are leading by one, having given up a single goal on a nearly indefensible corner kick after Santana scored two goals with assists by Quinn both times. 

The real pain in her ass has been that damn Number Fourteen. From the top of the game, she has been on Quinn all of the time. She’s been overtly aggressive, coming down the middle directly at Quinn, always the first to approach her when she gets the ball, and even slamming into Quinn a few times, nearly earning her a yellow card. Quinn has taken the hits and attacks with grace, not one to get too aggressive on the field, but she did have to talk Santana down from getting into it with her during halftime.

The second half starts with a bang, Number Fourteen receiving the pass and instantly darting down the field instead of passing back to her midfielders. Quinn watches her pass up the girl in front of her, and she steps up to take her on. Quinn cheats her one way, quickly moving back to steal the ball, and the girl kicks her directly in her ankle, sending her tumbling to the ground. She’s instantly met by a defender who steals the ball away and sends it back to Brittany while Quinn gets up off of the ground.

There should have been a whistle, and she should’ve gotten a set piece, but the play keeps going, and Quinn’s anger rises. She hears Santana shout obscenities at the referee and a roar of complaints from the crowd. Scanning the crowd, Quinn sees Rachel shouting out at the referee, and it brings a smile to her face. Her girlfriend doesn’t know a _ton_ about soccer, mostly just what she’s learned from watching Quinn play and listening to her rant after games, but it warms her heart every time she looks up and sees her face in the crowd.

A few minutes later, Quinn has the ball and is making a break down the field, dodging players left and right, when, out of nowhere, comes Number Fourteen. The girl drops her shoulder and fully bodyslams her, knocking Quinn directly onto her back. The whistle blows as Quinn lays on the ground, her vision blurry and her head spinning. Santana rushes over and helps her sit up, and, out of the corner of her eye, she sees the ref flash a yellow card at Number Fourteen.

“Q? You good? How many fingers am I holding up?” Santana asks, flipping her middle finger up in the air. Quinn laughs, smacking her hand away before closing her eyes and letting her head settle for a few seconds. Slowly, she gets to her feet, hearing cheering from the crowd, Rachel’s voice rising above all of the others. Nodding to the ref, Quinn gets the ball and sets it where she fell, watching her teammates scramble into place ahead of her. She eyes Number Fourteen, standing just mere feet in front of her, and kicks the ball, sending it flying over the girl’s head.

About ten minutes later, Fourteen gets a breakaway. She’s sprinting down the field, passing up Quinn’s teammates one by one, and Quinn is chasing after her with everything she has. She enters the penalty box, hot on Fourteen’s trail, when Brittany steps out to stop the girl in her tracks. 

But Fourteen doesn’t budge. She plows right through Brittany, sending the ball into the back of the net, and landing a solid knee right to Brittany’s face, knocking her hard onto the ground. Quinn gasps when Brittany doesn’t move after a few seconds, running up to her. 

“Hey, B,” Quinn says gently, watching her eyes flutter open. Her face is pale, eyes dull, and Quinn knows she hit the ground _hard_ , too hard to keep playing in this game. “Come on, let’s get you up and off the field, alright?”

Brittany nods slightly, and Quinn helps her to her feet and leads her off the field to their bench. Someone immediately funnels water into her mouth while another player calls the athletic trainer over, and Quinn turns to her coach.

“Put me in as keeper.” She says.

Sue’s eyes grow wide. “Q, are you insane?”

Quinn just shakes her head, already taking the gloves off of Brittany’s hands and sliding them onto her own. “We can’t pull Jamie out of defense right now, not when we just lost our lead.” She eyes the scoreboard to confirm, and, yep, they are officially tied two to two.

Sue pauses for a moment, looking at her intently, before sighing and making a few markings on her clipboard. “Alright, Q. Alright.”

Quinn takes the keeper jersey from Brittany, sliding it over her head, and gives her a little fist-bump before she runs back out onto the field, taking her new place in the goal. She’s never played in goal during a game, only during practices, but, as she said, they can’t afford to lose their best defender right now, who also happens to be their secondary goalkeeper. She sees Adrienne run onto the field, taking her spot at center mid, and gives her a thumb’s up before giving the referee a thumb’s up to signal that she’s ready to go.

The game continues with Quinn in goal, and she knows her team is working extra hard to keep the ball out of the goal box as much as they possibly can. She ends up taking a couple of goal kicks, making a few easy saves, but the real highlight is when Fourteen takes a long shot from the side of the field, and Quinn jumps high, as high as she possibly can, and barely catches the ball in the air, crashing to the ground with it securely in her hands. Immediately following that save, Quinn gets the ball up to Santana, who quickly drives it into the back of the net, putting them back in the lead. 

For the remainder of the time, her teammates continue playing strong, taking their time with passes, forcing the other team to attack more and tire themselves out, which, in the ninety-two degree heat, happens fairly quickly. Before Quinn knows it, the referee blows her whistle once, twice, three times, and the game is over. They won.

* * *

It’s after the game that Quinn gets to finally see Rachel, and she spots her approaching Carmel High’s bench. She’s storming over there, and Quinn immediately starts jogging to catch up with her.

“Rach!” Quinn calls out, but Rachel doesn’t stop.

She arrives at their bench and stands directly behind Number Fourteen, stretching up on her toes to tap her on the shoulder. The girl turns around, dropping her gaze to Rachel, and the sight is both hilarious and worrying. Her girlfriend, barely 5’3, standing directly in front of the nearly 5’10 girl, ready to attack. 

Quinn barely arrives in time to hear Rachel say, “Just who do you think you are?”

Fourteen scoffs. “Excuse me?”

“You nearly killed my girlfriend out there!” Rachel raises her voice, stomping her foot a little bit. “You came after her the entire game, and you nearly knocked the wind out of her when you slammed her to the ground! You clearly had a vendetta against her, for no good reason, and then you ran over Brittany and nearly gave her a concussion!”

Quinn slowly approaches Rachel from behind, and the girl notices her, her eyes zeroing in on her. Rachel spins around and, seeing Quinn, grabs her hand and pulls her to stand next to her, Quinn stumbling at the unexpected move.

“You see this girl?” Rachel asks. “This is my girlfriend, who you nearly trampled to death out there! And I am demanding that you apologize to her. Right now.”

“Apologize? Really?” Number Fourteen laughs

Quinn squeezes Rachel’s hand, trying to pull her away. “Baby, come on, let’s just go. It’s fine.”

Rachel stomps her foot again. “Quinn, it is absolutely _not_ fine!” She insists, voice growing higher in pitch. “Brittany got taken out of the game because of her unnecessary aggression, and you took several falls that could have really hurt you!”

“But I’m here, see?” Quinn needlessly reminds her. “I’m here, and I’m good. I’m okay.”

Rachel looks between Quinn and Fourteen, and she nods sheepishly, cheeks turning slightly red. “Alright, fine.” She concedes, turning to face the tall girl. “Maybe you should rethink your aggression next time. Try channeling your feelings into song instead! You obviously have a lot you need to express. Oh, and try winning the game next time, too.”

Rachel spins on her heel and takes off, dragging Quinn with her, and Quinn is all but helpless to follow her girlfriend. They get to a semi-secluded corner of the stadium, and Rachel stops and looks her directly in the eyes.

“Quinn Fabray.”

“Rachel Berry.”

Rachel huffs. “You _cannot_ just go in and play goalie like that! Do you have any idea how scared I was for you? Especially after I saw that rude, giant girl just plow right through Brittany?”

Rachel’s eyes are wide, her chest heaving, and Quinn takes both of her hands and holds them in front of her. “I had to, Rach. We didn’t have any better options.”

“You didn’t have any better options than directly putting yourself in harm’s way of the girl who was after you for the entire game?” Rachel nearly shouts.

Quinn sighs, squeezing her hands tightly. “Baby, I’m fine. Brittany will be fine. This is how this works, you know that. Besides, it let us win, and did you see that save I made against Fourteen anyway?”

Rachel nods, eyes dropping to the ground. “I’m sorry. I just got very scared, especially after seeing her send you falling to the ground so many times.”

Quinn releases one of her hands to lift her chin, and she smiles when she sees the number seventeen, Quinn’s jersey number, painted onto her cheek. She’s wearing a red shirt with the number seventeen as well, and Quinn knows she had a poster with her name and number on it as well. Her sheer dedication to supporting Quinn despite knowing so little about the sport makes Quinn so happy every single time.

“Baby, I’m good. We kicked ass, and now we’re gonna go and win our third state title.” Quinn declares proudly.

Rachel squeals with delight. “Yes, you are! And I am so proud of you, baby.”

Rachel jumps up and wraps her arms around Quinn’s neck, and Quinn laughs into her as she places her arms around Rachel’s waist and squeezes her tightly. Rather quickly, Rachel pulls back with a grimace on her face.

“You’re all sweaty and gross.” She complains with a small grin.

Quinn scoffs, rolling her eyes. “That’s never stopped you before.”

“I guess you’re right.” Rachel concedes, leaning up to kiss her.

Quinn loves soccer, and she loves Rachel, and having them together is something she never thought she could have, but is everything she never knew she needed. 


	23. day 23: arguing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! Day 23! How are yall doing? I apologize for this being a week late, but I had some life (namely college) stuff to take care of, and, to be quite honest, I wasn't in a great space mentally for a bit there. But I'm back, and I hope to keep getting these last chapters up within the next week!
> 
> This is a bit of a somber note to return on, so I apologize for that, too. This is loosely inspired by the musical, The Last Five Years, mostly the song "If I Didn't Believe In You." Feel free to give it a listen after reading this if you want. (Also this might be considered a bit ooc for Rachel... I'm not entirely sure. Sorry anyway.)

“Rach, are you coming tonight?”

Rachel watches her girlfriend slip on her shoes as she gets ready to head out to the store. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, Quinn glances back at her expectantly, and Rachel doesn’t know how to respond.

Tonight is (another) one of Quinn’s many book release parties, or readings, or whatever it is that her publishing company is holding for her. It’s the second one this week, and the hundredth one this month, or at least that’s what it feels like. 

“I’m, uh, I’m not sure, baby,” Rachel says instead of answering properly. “I have to see what I have lined up for the day.”

Quinn just smiles, albeit a bit tensely, and offers her a little wave. “No worries. Do you need anything from the store?”

Rachel smiles back. “No, I’m good.”

“Alright,” Quinn replies. “I’ll be right back,” She pauses before tagging on a “Love you!” at the end.

“Love you, too.” Rachel calls as Quinn walks out of their apartment, the door closing softly behind her.

Rachel sighs heavily, slumping over in her seat at the kitchen table and pressing her face into her hands. She wants to go to Quinn’s event tonight. No, scratch that. She wants to _want_ to go. She really does. But lately, more often than not, she’s been growing tired of attending Quinn’s events. Partially because they are so numerous, but also partially because Rachel has begun to feel something that she never thought she would feel towards her girlfriend.

Resentment. Driven by jealousy and insecurity, but still, resentment.

It didn’t begin this way. She swears it didn’t. It had started as nothing but unconditional love and support for her girlfriend. Rachel adored watching Quinn live out her childhood dreams of publishing a book and becoming a successful author. The thing was, neither of them had any idea just how successful she would become.

Four months ago, Quinn’s book dropped, and it immediately became a _New York Times_ Bestseller. Within hours, her agent was calling her with dozens of offers for interviews: phone calls, in person, on TV, you name it. She was being asked to do book readings, book signings, to give book talks and presentations at colleges, to be on authors’ panels and to speak at conventions. Quinn was booked, nonstop, for weeks on end.

All while Rachel had just finished her run in an off-Broadway show when it had closed due to low ticket sales, and she was struggling to find work.

Quinn was the most successful she had ever been while Rachel was going to audition after audition and booking nothing. She was auditioning for countless projects each week, and the rejection calls were getting exhausting. She had even considered going back to Ohio to do some smaller community theatre roles for the summer, just so she could get some work. Quinn had quickly talked her out of it, but the point still stood.

It was a matter of pride for Rachel. Not that she thought her girlfriend could never be more successful than her, but that Rachel, herself, wasn’t having the same success that she had always dreamed of.

Once upon a time, Rachel had said that she needs applause to live, and, years later, it’s still true. She knows she’s talented, but, without an audience, what’s the point? She hasn’t quite yet landed the role that will propel her into stardom, and it has been disappointing, to say the least.

It was largely unsurprising that Rachel began to become jealous of Quinn’s success. Every time her girlfriend would mention another interview, or another signing, or another party, a sinking feeling would settle in Rachel’s stomach. It was born from insecurity, spun together with jealousy, and gradually morphed into full-on resentment.

She had begun to resent Quinn’s success, and she despises herself for it. Rachel knows Quinn deserves all of the success she has received, and she knows that none of it comes at a disadvantage to herself, but she cannot seem to get past these lingering thoughts.

Unfortunately, they all seem to come to a head that night when Quinn is getting ready to go to the book release party. It's the second this week, Rachel feels the need to repeat, even though her book was released four months ago.

“You sure you don’t wanna come, baby?” Quinn asks, slipping on a pair of heels.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Rachel mumbles from the kitchen as she packs up the leftovers from their early dinner. 

“You _sure_ sure?” Quinn asks with a smile. She walks over to Rachel, sliding her arms around her waist from behind her. “Because it’s at my agent’s apartment, and I know he has this nice, little private bathroom that I was hoping we could sneak into and—”

“No!” Rachel cuts her off harshly. Quinn’s hands go still, then fall away from her waist, and Rachel misses them instantly. Still, she just says, “No, Quinn, I don’t want to go to another one of your parties.”

She hears Quinn take a step back behind her, and Rachel spins around to find Quinn looking at her, confusion and hurt evident on her face. “What do you mean… _another_ one of my parties?”

Rachel sighs, eyes falling to the ground. “Nothing. It’s-it’s nothing.”

“Rach?”

She looks back up and sees Quinn’s pleading eyes, and Rachel instantly feels bad again. She hates herself for feeling this way, but she feels the weight lift off her chest when she says, “There’s just so many of them, and it feels like… like that’s all we do anymore.”

“I don’t understand,” Quinn murmurs.

“I just–We don’t really have a lot of time together anymore, and whenever we do, it–it feels like we’re always talking about something about your book, or we’re at an event for your book, or you’re talking about plans for a sequel to your book…” Rachel trails off nervously, knowing she’s opening a gate she’s not sure she’s ready to enter.

Quinn takes another step back, the distance between them growing, and it makes Rachel sick to her stomach. She hates this feeling, but she can’t just pretend she never said anything.

Still, when Quinn is silent, Rachel tries to say, “Never mind, Quinn, just forget I said anything,” but Quinn cuts her off.

“No, Rach, I… I just don’t get it,” She explains. “This is–it’s a part of my job, these events, especially since the book has been so successful.”

“I know that, and I am so happy for you, baby, but…” Rachel pauses, dropping her gaze to the floor. “We go to these parties, and I stand there like–like some trophy wife, answering questions about you and–and watching you get all of this attention while I just sit there.”

Quinn’s eyes flash with something that Rachel can’t quite recognize. “I’m sorry that happens to you, but it… it isn’t really about you.”

Her words stab Rachel in the chest, and she watches as Quinn’s expression turns cold, colder than usual, at least, and she continues, saying, “These events are for me, to celebrate my success, thrown by my agent and my publishing company. It’s not like I’m trying to throw my success around in people’s faces.”

“Well, that’s what it feels like!” Rachel blurts out.

Quinn’s eyes widen, and Rachel fights the urge to slap a hand over her mouth. She knows she’s getting emotional and letting words slip out before she can think about them. But they are out there, and she can’t take them back. Instead, she sees Quinn take yet _another_ step back. There’s nearly five feet of space between them now, and it is screaming with tension and uncertainty.

“Rachel, what is this? Is this about something else?” Quinn asks. “Because it feels like you’re blaming me for something that I don’t have control over.”

Rachel sighs, “No, I’m not blaming you. It just really hurts seeing you get all of this attention, which you so deserve, while my career is… currently less than.”

“And somehow that’s my fault?” Quinn says snarkily. 

“No!” Rachel refutes, her voice raising. “No, I just said that I don’t blame you.”

Quinn scoffs. “Well, that’s what it feels like.” She mutters, throwing Rachel’s words back in her face.

Her words sting, cutting deep, and Rachel feels tears begin to form in her eyes. “I’ve just worked my entire life for this,” She explains shakily, “For my success. And it feels like, no matter what I do, I just can’t seem to get ahead.”

“Rachel,” Quinn exhales sharply, “You know how much I believe in you. If I didn’t, we wouldn’t have this amazing life together that we have. You know how much I believe in your talent and the success I know you will achieve eventually.”

Rachel senses a “but” coming, and she’s correct when Quinn continues, saying, “But you can’t expect me to put my career on hold and wait for yours to catch up.” Her breath catches in her throat at the scathing tone Quinn’s voice has taken on. “I–I’m not gonna turn down these events and opportunities to celebrate my hard work because they make _you_ uncomfortable.”

She pauses, and Rachel’s heart pounds fiercely in her chest. She knows she’s being irrational, and she knows Quinn is (mostly) right, but that doesn’t stop her from saying, “You’ve only been working at this for a few years, Quinn, and you’ve already reached your goals. I’ve been working at this my entire life, and I still haven’t gotten the success that you have! It isn’t fair!”

Quinn’s eyes grow wide. “Oh, so now I don’t even deserve the success I’ve gotten because I haven’t been doing this as long as you have? Great, Rachel, thank you so much for that.” Her voice cracks with the last few words, and she stands up and begins walking toward the door.

“Quinn, wait,” Rachel calls out regretfully, “That’s not what I meant.”

Quinn stops in her tracks and spins around to meet Rachel’s eyes. Her eyes are gleaming with unshed tears, and she says, “Yes, it is. You meant it. And I have to go.”

She turns and walks out the door, letting it slam shut behind her, and Rachel’s knees give out beneath her. She falls to the floor, her butt landing hard on the wooden floor below her, and cries into her hands. Once again, Rachel has let her insecurities get the best of her, and she’s not sure how she can come back from this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two coming soon, I promise. Again, inspired by "If I Didn't Believe in You" from The Last Five Years and a couple other songs from the show.


	24. day 24: making up afterwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 24! Sorry again for the delay, but-at this point-these are just gonna come out whenever I finish them. We're in the home stretch here, only six more days, and I will do my best to keep them coming as soon as possible. Anyway, here's a part two to the previous chapter about arguing.

Sitting on the subway, Quinn stares blankly at the wall opposite her and ponders the day’s events.

She had been looking forward to the party tonight, with Rachel, but her excitement was quickly trampled by their argument. She went to the party alone, watched as everyone talked and laughed and drank while she politely made her rounds, talking to people, and played back her conversation with Rachel over and over in her head.

All night, Quinn thought about her girlfriend. Every time someone asked where Rachel was, or why Rachel wasn’t with her, or how Rachel was doing, it forced her mind back to thinking about her, as if she wasn’t already constantly on her mind, and it made her feel even worse about their argument. Quinn knows she wasn’t in the wrong, but she can admit that she wasn’t entirely in the right either. However, Rachel’s words had come as quite the surprise to her and had struck a few sour chords within her.

Since she was eight years old, reading Lewis Carroll and L. Frank Baum, being called another name, almost as if it were another lifetime, Quinn has dreamed of publishing a book of her own. She fell in love with literature from a young age, and she is a writer at heart. A story-teller, much like Rachel, actually. They both have always longed to tell stories of vastly different characters facing all sorts of struggles. For Quinn, this desire is met through her writing.

When her novel was published, it was one of the greatest days of Quinn’s life. It wasn’t her Great American Novel, but it certainly was one that she was (and is) immensely proud of. She had been working on it for close to five years, and it was finally out to the public. And it was an instantaneous hit.

Quinn was so glad to be recognized for her efforts, to be lauded and praised by numerous critics, to receive letters and emails from readers telling her how much the story touched them. It was personal to her, a memoir of sorts, told through the lens of a girl named Dawn. It was twenty-six years of existence, of life, of love, of loss, of regret and mistakes and forgiveness and acceptance, all culminated into one story, twenty-four chapters, over eighty thousand words. Her perfect thing.

And to find out Rachel has been resenting her success? Well, it definitely hurts a bit. 

She never thought she would see the day when Rachel wasn’t incredibly supportive of her endeavors. That’s what they did, what they’ve always done, after all. They support each other. Even in high school, they were each other’s biggest supporters despite any tension between them. But hearing Rachel say she was tired of going to her parties and thinking she’s flaunting her success in her face didn’t sit well with Quinn. At all.

She said some harsh words earlier, and, as she walks off the subway to her apartment building, she can’t decide whether she’s hoping to find Rachel still awake or not. Quinn wants to work this out with her before it can fester into something worse, but she’s exhausted and just wants to fall in bed with her girlfriend and leave it for the morning. Unsurprisingly, Rachel is still awake when Quinn walks in, never one to leave a fight like this unresolved. She’s sitting in the corner of the couch, legs tucked underneath her, chewing on her lip nervously as Quinn sets her things down and heads into their bedroom.

She hears Rachel call, “Quinn?” as she walks in, leaving the door open behind her, and peels off her dress and heels. She throws a pair of shorts on and is pulling a shirt out of their dresser when Rachel walks in. She pauses in her steps, eyes suddenly growing wide at Quinn’s state of (un)dress.

“I was just changing,” She explains, turning around to take her bra off and throw the shirt over her head. Usually, she wouldn’t bother with this kind of modesty in front of her girlfriend, but it feels necessary given the circumstances.

Quinn turns back around to see Rachel still standing in the entrance to their bedroom. Exhaling deeply, she walks and sits on the bed as Rachel moves a few steps closer to her, still leaving a wide gap between them. She meets her girlfriend’s eyes, seeing an amalgamation of emotions buried within them.

It’s silent, almost unbearably so, before Rachel says, “I, um, I got a callback while you were out.”

Quinn’s eyes grow wide. “You did?” She asks.

Rachel nods, explaining, “It’s for _Moulin Rouge_. They’re just workshopping it right now, but—”

“Rachel, that’s amazing!” Quinn cuts her off, overwhelmed with excitement for her girlfriend. _Moulin Rouge_ could be a huge role for her, but Rachel doesn’t seem excited in the least. Instead, her face remains despondent, a frown firmly in place on her lips.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles.

Quinn’s heart melts at the pain in Rachel’s voice, and she’s about to respond when Rachel continues, “I am so sorry, Quinn. I love you so much, and I love that you have been so successful, and I am so happy for you.”

“Do I–Have I been… rubbing my success in your face?” Quinn asks softly. “Because I don’t want you to feel like I have been, but these events, where I’m expected to make appearances, they’re a part of my job. It would be no different than if you had interviews and red carpets to go to for shows or movies.”

Rachel shakes her head in embarrassment. “You haven’t, and I see that now. I was just insecure over my own professional shortcomings, and I displaced those onto you, and I can’t apologize enough for that.”

Quinn nods in response, but she still feels uneasy about the whole thing. “I’m sorry for what I said, too. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions so quickly or been so harsh. It just hurt to hear you say that seeing my success hurts you. I don’t like feeling like I’m committing some kind of felony when I’m just doing what I’ve always wanted to do.”

“You aren’t, Quinn.” Rachel promises. “You deserve all of the success you have gotten, and I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise. I know how long you have wanted to write a book, and you deserve your success so much. Maybe more than I do.”

“Rach, no,” She says. “You deserve all of the success in the world, and I know you are going to get there. I know you are. It’s just taking a bit longer, and that is perfectly fine. _You_ will be fine. I believe in you.”

Quinn holds her arms out, beckoning her girlfriend to come closer. Rachel shuffles over to her, stopping a foot in front of her, and Quinn grabs her hands, pulling her to stand in between her legs which are dangling over the side of the bed. She tangles their fingers together and watches a shy smile paint its way onto Rachel’s face as she drops her gaze to the floor. Squeezing her hands, Quinn leans forward and nudges Rachel’s head up to look at her.

Rachel meets her eyes, pure adoration shining back at her. “Thank you. I really am sorry. I am so proud of how far you have come, and how well your book is doing, and how much you so, _so_ deserve all of the recognition you have gotten.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Quinn replies. She pulls Rachel forward, and Rachel giggles as she falls on top of Quinn on the bed. The weight of Rachel’s torso atop hers is nothing short of comforting, just as it should be, and the mere thought makes Quinn smile. “I love you, Rachel.”

Rachel smiles back and closes the distance between their lips, capturing hers in a sweet kiss. Quinn hums into the kiss, releasing Rachel’s hands to bury them in her hair, threading her fingers through brunette locks. Rachel cups Quinn’s face as she pulls away and presses short pecks to her lips. 

Quinn’s grinning widely between Rachel’s kisses when Rachel says, “I love you, too.”

Smirking, Quinn grabs Rachel’s waist and flips them over, pinning her to the bed. Rachel giggles as Quinn tilts her head and begins pressing kisses to her neck. She relishes the feeling of Rachel’s body squirming beneath hers, the little noises she makes when she brushes over particularly sensitive spots, and Quinn knows she can’t get any better than this.

"So," Quinn says with a grin, "Tell me about _Moulin Rouge_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch The Last Five Years! It's free to watch on YouTube! And watch Moulin Rouge! I think it's on Amazon Prime or Hulu or something... Take a look!


	25. day 25: gazing into each other's eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there. I took some time off from writing for obvious reasons. The news about Naya broke my heart, and I really had to take a step back from everything for a bit there. I won't dive into it, but it was tough, and I know so many of us are still feeling it. She meant the world to me, playing and truly embodying the first lesbian character I ever saw on television, and was such a huge part of my journey with accepting myself and my own identity. I know she will always live on through her family, through her friends, and through us, the fans, who will always keep her spirit alive in whatever form we can.
> 
> That being said, here is Day 25 for this challenge. I can't promise when the rest of the chapters will come, mostly because I'm still coming to terms with everything that happened and trying to make peace with it, but I hope this can bring a little light to your lives in these dark times. Thanks.

You look into her eyes, and all you can see is regret. Shining, nearly blinding regret. You can see it in her eyes as she apologizes, and it’s masked by a layer of fear as she says she understands if you want to beat her up.

You wonder how you became this person, this monster who people are afraid of. When you were younger, you were the one being pushed and pulled and teased; somehow, you have now become the aggressor. You don’t know exactly when or where or how it happened, but it happened. 

_I’m not mad at you,_ you tell her, and it’s true. You have no reason to be mad at her. All she did was what you were too scared to do yourself. 

It’s funny how people are still scared of you when you are the biggest coward you know. How you invented this persona that makes people tremble in fear, you haven’t the slightest clue. You held off telling your parents about your pregnancy for as long as possible because you were scared of how they’d react. You joined Glee Club because you were afraid that Finn would leave you. You didn’t tell Finn about Puck because it scared you; _he_ scared you.

And now?

Now, here is Rachel, terrified of you and the idea that you might hurt her, inflict physical harm on her, all because she did something you were too much of a coward to do.

She sits down next to you, and you can’t bear to look at her again, too afraid of what you might see. She says that she acted selfishly, that she wanted Finn to be with her instead of you, and you can’t help but notice the irony of it all. You and Rachel bickered over him, argued over him, fought and cheated and lied just for the chance to be with him.

 _And now neither of us have him,_ you whisper forlornly.

You wonder whether it was worth it. All of the fighting, stress, pain you caused people. You have hurt so many people, and you admit this to Rachel as she stares at you, her eyes unwavering, shooting lasers into the side of your face, and you can’t help but turn to meet her gaze once more.

You ask her to leave, and she nods with understanding though you can see the disappointment reflected in her eyes. You can’t bring yourself to placate her, not now, so you watch as she walks away, and you hope that you never have to see that same fear in her eyes again.

* * *

Except you do. A year and some months later, you look into her eyes, and you see fear. And it breaks your heart.

You have just done something you swore to yourself you’d never do. You hit her.

Even when you were at your meanest, in your lowest moments, you never physically harmed anyone. You never threw slushies, never pushed or shoved or hit anyone. And then, five seconds ago, you slapped her, completely unprovoked.

In hitting this girl, you’ve hit a new low.

You apologize instantly, tears coming to your eyes, as she stands there in shock. You turn away from her, unable to look into her eyes any longer and see the surprise and fear that lies within them. She moves to the sink to inspect the damage, you assume, and you feel the need to apologize again. She hadn’t done anything, really, and you took your anger and frustration out on her for no good reason.

(You’re reminded of your dad’s outbursts of anger, and your heart breaks even more. Maybe you really are a monster, just like he was.)

You join her at the sinks, trying to salvage whatever is left of your makeup after the night’s events. She says something about _appreciating the drama_ of the slap, and you want to laugh, but the sound gets caught in your throat. Instead, you turn around, leaning back against the sink behind you, trying to find words to say that aren’t another apology.

 _I know you think it’s hard to be you, Rachel,_ you say, and you realize it’s one of the few times you’ve called her by her name, to her face. It’s unnerving, so you brush it off and continue, _But at least you don’t have to be terrified all the time._

 _What are you so scared of?,_ She asks, and the answer is far too convoluted and complex to even begin to explain. You tell her you’re scared of the future, which is true, mostly because you are scared of loss. You know what it’s like to lose everything, to have the floor ripped out from right under your feet, with no warning, and the future holds the possibility of you losing everything again.

She looks deep into your eyes as she tells you, _You’re a very pretty girl, Quinn, the prettiest girl I’ve ever met, but…_

Here she pauses, waiting for you to return her gaze. When you do, you see the depths of her brown eyes, the sincerity boiling up, over, and out of them, her gaze so genuine that you almost believe her when she says, _You’re a lot more than that._

* * *

This time when you look into her eyes, you see awe. It’s a bit unnerving; you’ve never seen such pure admiration in those eyes. At least, not directed at you. So when she looks at you like you’ve hung the fucking moon in the sky, you’re taken aback.

You’ve come to see her, to thank her for keeping you from making such a poor decision. You had been lost in your own head, overwhelmed with everything from your skank phase to the return of Shelby (and _Beth_ ) to Puck then sleeping with Shelby, the woman who adopted their child, and you’d lost your way a bit. Funny enough, the one person who had been able to get through to you was Rachel.

Then again, it’s always her.

For whatever reason, she has always been there in your worst moments. And, for whatever other reason, she is always there, saying the exact thing you need to hear. Reassuring you at prom. Checking on you when you were a skank. Convincing you not to tell Figgins about Puck and Shelby. And you always, _always_ take her seriously.

It both frightens and excites you.

A smile lights up her face as she processes your words, and she ducks her head, her cheeks flushing. There is no fear, no disappointment, no regret in her eyes when she looks up at you and says, _We’re kind of friends, huh?_

You can’t help but smile back and shrug. _Kind of,_ you say coyly; you know that whatever this _thing_ is that exists between you and her has always been more than friendship.

Her smile widens, and she sits down in the seat next to you. You ask her what she thinks about Yale because she’s _kind of_ your friend, and friends talk about these sorts of things. It’s more of a courtesy than anything at this point since you have already applied, early action, and are just awaiting the decision at this point, but it’s worth it to see the awe in her eyes when you tell her that you want to go there.

Your grades are superb, a 4.0 unweighted GPA since freshman year, even higher when weighted, your extracurriculars are noteworthy, including a national cheerleading title, and your personal essay, well, you don’t mean to brag, but you’re certain it will stand out among all of the other applicants. Unless there’s another person that dealt with what _you_ dealt with during your sophomore year, you are sure that you will be remembered by the admissions officers.

She looks at you with so much admiration you feel like you might explode. _You’re a lot better than you know,_ Rachel tells you, and, for the first time, you’re starting to believe it.

* * *

By now, the admiration in her gaze no longer surprises you. You still get a momentary feeling of shock, every time she looks at you like that, but it doesn’t come as the surprise that it used to. You know how lucky you are that you’ve changed enough to become her friend, to see fondness in her eyes rather than fear, affection rather than abhorrence. 

You tell her this, and that awed expression returns to her face, along with a shy smile, as she says how weird it is to hear you call her a friend.

That’s what you are now. Friends. Not enemies, not rivals, not frenemies, not _kind of friends_. Actual, real friends. The kind that tell each other important news, like getting into Yale, and talk to each other about important decisions, like whether or not to get engaged. The kind that hug, the kind that hold hands occasionally, the kind that you can’t believe you’ve actually gotten the chance to have, especially when it’s her. 

She’s been a constant in your high school career, whether you’ve liked it or not. And, despite the longing and aching in your chest whenever you see her with her boyfriend, you are friends.

The kind that make promises to keep in touch, apparently.

The train tickets had been a sleepy, spur-of-the-moment decision one night a few weeks ago. You know Rachel is going to end up in New York, one way or another, and the thought of losing this girl from your life when the two of you are at your closest is unbearable. You don’t want to carry any anchors from your past into your future, but she isn’t an anchor; she’s a life saver, one that you are not planning on forgetting about any time soon.

You hand her the envelope and explain, _A Metro North pass from New York to New Haven. I got one for me into New York._ You wait for her to look back up at you before you say, _You know, everybody keeps talking about staying in touch, and I want to make sure that we do._

Her expression is one of pure amazement. She smiles and thanks you, wrapping her arms around you for a hug. You wrap your arms around her back effortlessly, as if you’ve been doing it your entire life, and you find yourself wishing it could be like this for the rest of yours.

Unfortunately, you draw yourself back to reality, never letting yourself dwell on those thoughts, at least not in her presence. You give her your support for her engagement, even though a part of your soul dies as you do, because he makes her happy, and that’s all you want for her: happiness. The kind that you know you will never be able to give her. And, if the grin on her face and the pounding in your chest are any indication, you’re not sure if you’ll ever truly make peace with that.

* * *

She looks at you with pride in her eyes, and it’s a sight you’ll never tire of.

It’s Thanksgiving, your first year of college, and you’re in New York, visiting her, staying at her apartment that she shares with Kurt. Santana is here, too, just for the holiday, and you find yourself surrounded by so much love it fills your heart with joy.

You miss your mom dearly, especially not being with her for the holiday, but you know she’s with your sister in Baltimore, seeing her grandkids, and you talked earlier that day, and she is doing great. And you’re doing great. Amazing, really. 

College has been everything you ever wanted it to be. You love your classes, getting to study topics in which you have always been interested in but never afforded the opportunities to study. You have made friends, in a variety of classes and clubs, ones that have no prior expectations of you, which is something you are so, _so_ grateful for. You are learning more about yourself every day, growing more comfortable with the person you are meant to be, and you’re sharing this new version of yourself with others, too; it is freeing.

Today, you are sitting with Rachel in the living room, Kurt and Santana out at the store at your request, because you wanted a moment alone with her to tell her something. Something important.

The words spill from your mouth before you can even process what you’re saying. 

_I’m gay,_ you whisper into the silence.

Her eyes lock onto yours, a mixture of shock and pride, and they glaze over with a sudden onset of tears that match your own. She scoots over and pulls you into a hug. She holds you tight, tighter than she’s ever held you before, and you hug her back, letting your tears fall onto her shoulder and down her back. It’s a precious moment, and you try your best to remember the feeling of her arms around you, her head against yours, her breath hitting your neck, her scent overwhelming your senses.

 _Thank you for telling me,_ she murmurs into your ear, her voice sending chills down your spine. _I am so proud of you._

Then, you’re crying harder, faster, the tears pouring from your eyes as she holds you even tighter, which you weren’t even aware was possible at this point. She’s crying now, too, and you know something has shifted between you two. The air is heavier, the feeling of her skin against yours is warm, hotter to the touch than it used to be, but the weight has been lifted off of your shoulders, and you can breathe a little easier, and you know it’s worth it.

* * *

A few months later, she’ll look at you with love in her eyes as she kisses you for the first time, both of your eyes fluttering shut at the contact, a rush of tenderness flowing through you, and you’re comforted by the thought of never seeing anything but love in her eyes ever again.


	26. day 26: getting married

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what? I'm back! It was a rough couple of weeks there, with little to no motivation and a lot of other things going on personally, but here is Day 26! And it's a wedding, how fun? I'm not sure how realistic this wedding would be, but the idea came to me based on this random line I came up with, and I went with it.
> 
> On a side note, my classes begin on Monday, so I am hoping to get these last few chapters out before then! Not making any promises though. I also got a new laptop this past weekend, so I am hoping that it will encourage me to write more too.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Quinn is struggling with her vows.

When she proposed to Rachel just under eleven months ago, it was with love and passion and hope for a future together with her, forever, until death do them part. What she hadn’t considered, at least not at the time, was the stress of wedding planning. Making guest lists, choosing a date and location, picking flowers and food and cake and decorations and bridesmaids and bridesmen and colors and so many more minor details that it gives Quinn a headache just thinking about them.

She’s faced these decisions (mostly) with grace over the past year, with Rachel at her side through all of it. They’ve shed tears over flower choices–gardenias have always been so special to them–bickered over dessert choices, made love over (and on top of) color swatches, and never once strayed from each other’s side. The past months have been stressful, incredibly so, but they’ve all built up to what Quinn knows will be the single greatest day of her life thus far.

If only she could figure out what the hell she wants to say in her vows. 

Rachel knows how much Quinn adores her. The four years they have been together have been nothing short of the best years of Quinn’s life. And she has made Rachel aware of this fact every day that they have spent together. She never fails to ensure that Rachel knows just how much she loves her, cares about her, counts herself lucky to have someone as incredible as her in her life. 

Every day, Quinn does little things to show her appreciation for her girlfriend. She leaves little notes around the apartment, cooks meals for her, writes her little poems, sings songs with her, does everything possible to convey her love in any way possible. (Once, she wrote a Shakespearian sonnet about the sheer beauty of Rachel’s boobs that left them both in fits of laughter.) It brings them joy, these little actions, small ways of showing her love whenever she can.

Now, sitting at her desk, a mere two weeks before her wedding date, Quinn is somehow at a loss for words. She knows Rachel has already written her vows, based on the numerous times her fiancée has casually mentioned them, trying to weasel some details out of Quinn about her own. Each time, Quinn has teased her, saying that she will have to wait until the actual day to find out because sharing any details would spoil the fun. In reality, Quinn just hasn’t found the words that she wants to say to the love of her life.

It’s quite ironic, really. She’s a writer; she’s made a living off of using her words, crafting phrases and weaving them together with sentences and paragraphs. But she can’t figure out what to say to Rachel on their wedding day. It’s frustrating, too, and she knows Rachel would tease her if she knew how much Quinn was struggling. 

Her problem isn’t not knowing what to say, necessarily, but how to say it. Quinn could write essays, novels, encyclopedias detailing the depths of her love and admiration for this woman, but that’s not what she needs. What she needs is a concise, _maybe_ two minutes maximum, speech that accurately illustrates four years of her commitment to this woman and why she wants to be with her for the rest of her life.

Easier said than done.

Staring at the blank notebook in front of her and the pen loosely dangling from her hand, Quinn hears Rachel humming from the kitchen. The sound makes her smile, the ease with which Rachel just produces music, flowing out of her like it’s the air that she breathes. It’s effortless, the way Rachel sings like it’s nothing, like it’s normal for such a brilliant voice to exude from someone so easily. 

Suddenly, a light bulb goes off in Quinn’s head, and she knows exactly what she needs to do for her vows. It’s only a matter of gathering the courage to do so.

* * *

The next two weeks fly by, between work-related meetings, last minute wedding decisions, and enjoying her (admittedly limited) quality time with Rachel when they weren’t otherwise preoccupied. Before she knows it, it’s her wedding day, and she’s standing in a room with her mom, Mercedes, and Santana, doing final makeup checks and trying to calm her nerves.

“Quinnie, you all ready?” Judy asks, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

She lets out a heavy sigh and drops her gaze to her hands, fiddling with the engagement ring on her finger, soon to be joined by a wedding band. The thought brings a smile to her face but does little to quell her nerves. “I’m freaking out,” Quinn admits softly, watching her mom’s reaction.

Judy’s eyes widen as she walks around to look her daughter in the eyes. “Freaking out? Honey, why?”

“Is this about your plan again?” Mercedes asks from behind, “Because I already paid Jeffrey, and he’s here, so it’s a little late to back out now.”

Quinn’s eyes flutter shut. Jeffrey, the accompanist Mercedes knows, is here and has been paid and is expecting to play. She can’t back out now. Except, “What if this is a terrible idea?” Quinn can’t stop herself from asking. “What if she doesn’t like it? What if it’s too much? What if she just wanted simple, normal wedding vows?”

“Please,” Santana scoffs, “It’s Rachel Berry. She’ll jump at any opportunity to perform, you know that. Even if it’s at her own wedding.”

Mercedes nods in agreement. “Santana is right, Quinn. You know Rachel better than anyone else, and you know that she’s gonna love this. If you didn’t think she would, you wouldn’t have come up with it in the first place.”

“And I didn’t spend all of my spare time over the past two weeks helping you rehearse this damn song just for you to cancel last minute.” Santana adds on. 

Quinn sighs in defeat. She knows they are right, but that doesn’t stop the constant doubts circling around in her head. “I just feel like this is a terrible idea.”

“Quinnie, stop that.” Her mom chastises. “You love Rachel. She loves you. And she loves to sing. This will be a wonderful moment to look back on in the future, and, if all goes south, I’m sure you can whip up something on the fly.”

“But it’s not going to go south,” Mercedes interjects, “Because you practiced, and you know Rachel, and you know how much she will love this.”

She looks at Mercedes, then her mom, and finally Santana, and Quinn gives in to their expectant looks. “Okay, I’m good. Let’s do this.”

“Thank God,” Santana says, “Because it’s showtime.”

Standing up, Quinn takes one last look at herself in the mirror, and, satisfied with her appearance, follows behind Santana as the four of them walk out to the front of the building. As they make their way, she is suddenly grateful that they decided on a banquet hall rather than an outdoor location simply because her last minute decision to turn her vows into a performance would decidedly _not_ have worked if they were outside. Suddenly, Santana stops walking, and Quinn is staring into the room in front of her, filled with all of her friends and family.

She turns to her two best friends, who have been there for her through thick and thin, and, without pretense, Quinn throws her arms around the both of them. Tears form in her eyes, and she laughs at herself for her sudden onset of emotions; she hasn’t even seen her bride yet. Mercedes laughs with her, cheeks pressed together, while Santana groans in (fake) discomfort, despite her arms wrapped around her friends’ shoulders. 

Pulling back, she turns to face her mom, whose eyes are misty, and she stretches her arm out to grab her hand. Their hands clasp, squeezing tightly, and Quinn takes a deep breath, pushing past the lump in her throat.

The music begins to play, and they walk. Hand in hand, Quinn walks with her mom down the aisle, meeting the gazes of her loved ones. She sees her sister, Frannie, with her husband and son, her friends from high school, Tina, Artie, Sam, Mike, and even Jesse, and her friends from college. She sees Rachel’s family, her aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents whom she has gotten to know and has become part of their family. She sees Shelby, sitting in the front row, a somewhat fond expression on her face, and Quinn is too happy to let any misgivings she may have towards the woman affect her mood right now.

She stops at the front, gives her mom a hug, and lets her go to sit next to Shelby. Quinn turns to look down the aisle, smiling at the sight of Santana and Brittany, arms linked, making their way down the aisle together. They got married the year prior, with Rachel and Quinn as bridesmaids, and now it is coming full circle. Santana moves to stand behind her while Brittany stands opposite her, throwing her a wink, and Quinn smiles even brighter as she turns her gaze back to find Kurt and Mercedes walking together. They are all smiles as they arrive at the front, Kurt releasing Mercedes with a spin to stand along with Santana while he joins Brittany across from Quinn. 

Turning her gaze back to the aisle, Quinn sucks in a breath as she awaits Rachel’s entrance. The door opens, and Quinn’s breath catches at the sight.

It’s Beth.

It’s Beth, her daughter with dark blonde hair falling in loose waves, with a small basket of flower petals, scattering them along the aisle as she walks nervously, hesitantly, seeming like she’s taking extra care to make sure she doesn’t trip in her white dress and flats, and Quinn’s eyes flood with tears. She can’t believe she didn’t notice that Beth wasn’t at Shelby’s side in the front row. 

(Quinn had wanted to ask Beth to be their flower girl, but she had chickened out; it seems her soon-to-be wife had gone behind her back and asked Beth to surprise her.)

When Beth gets to the front, Quinn bends over and embraces her tightly, quietly thanking her and telling her she did a great job. The grin that lights up her daughter’s face makes Quinn nearly cry with joy as Beth skips over to Shelby and sits in between her and Judy.

Then, the music shifts, the doors open, and Quinn’s breath catches once again. Because there, in all of her glory, is Rachel. Her hair is curled, falling easily over her shoulders, her strapless white gown stopping just at her knees, her arms locked in her fathers’ on either side of her, her eyes, shining with love, locked on Quinn’s.

She is the most gorgeous woman Quinn has ever laid eyes on.

And Quinn tells her as much, upon arriving at the front and joining her hands with Quinn’s after hugging her dads. Quinn relishes in the flush that appears on Rachel’s cheeks at the compliment. She resists the urge to kiss her, no matter how much she wants to; instead, she lifts Rachel’s hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand, and Rachel’s smile grows even brighter.

The officiant begins her remarks, and Quinn listens to her speak about love and commitment and lifelong bonds while looking at Rachel, standing across from her, and wondering how she got so lucky. Before she knows it, they’ve arrived at the vows, and Rachel is squeezing Quinn’s hands tightly to grab her attention.

Ever rehearsed, Rachel begins to recite, “It’s funny to be standing here, today, with you, the love of my life, the girl with whom I got into an argument over gay marriage when we were freshmen in high school. Now, here we are, getting gay married.”

Quinn chokes on her breath, jaw dropping, eyes widening, all while the crowd laughs, and Rachel’s face lights up at her shocked expression. She can’t believe Rachel just brought that up, on their wedding day, nonetheless, and she’s about to interject when Rachel says, “I know she’s probably upset with me right now for bringing that up, but I look back on it fondly now because it reminds me of how far we both have come.”

Quinn closes her mouth as Rachel continues, “We weren’t the closest in high school, as many of you know. We were on opposite sides of everything, and, yet, somehow, we always found our way to each other. Despite any animosity between us, Quinn always, _always_ believed in my talent more than anyone else, and I always saw the sweet, kind girl behind that icy façade.” She turns to look Quinn in the eyes, saying, “We have grown so much together, probably the most that two people can ever grow alongside each other, and I am so, so proud to be standing up here with you today.”

“You have taught me so much about growth, about struggle and persistence, about never giving up despite obstacles that come our way. You’ve taught me about love, unconditional love, the kind that I have always dreamed of but never believed was real until you kissed me for the first time.” Rachel pauses, wiping tears from her eyes. “You’ve shown me what it means to love someone so much that you would do anything to make them happy. Because you do. I have never been happier than when I have been with you, and I only hope I can make you as happy as you have made me for the rest of our lives.”

Tears falling down her cheeks, Quinn squeezes her hands tightly before Rachel lifts her hand up and kisses it. It warms her heart, seeing the love shining in Rachel’s eyes, through the tears, and it only makes her more nervous for what she’s about to do. 

The room goes silent as Quinn begins to speak, “You have surprised me quite a bit already today, so I think it’s my turn.” She nods to Jeffrey in the crowd, who gets up and walks over to the piano, sitting down in place of the previous player. Rachel looks at her, confusion evident in her gaze, and Quinn just smiles nervously. “I’m a writer at heart, but I struggled so much trying to figure out what I wanted to say in my vows. Then, I realized that maybe I should try speaking your language instead.”

Rachel’s eyebrows furrow for a moment before softening, her eyes growing wide with recognition. She darts her eyes from Quinn, to the piano, back to Quinn, and a look of admiration washes over her face. Quinn swallows nervously before she clears her throat and says, “I know you know this song, and I’m hoping you’ll sing with me when the time comes because no one here wants to watch me sing a song when you could be singing too.” At this, the crowd laughs, and Rachel just shakes her head in dismissal. 

“I know you’ll be upset with me that I haven’t let you warm up, but you don’t need a warm-up,” Quinn promises. “And, I’ll just make this one promise to you. Once upon a time you told me that I can be a bit sharp when I sing, which is probably true, but I promise to always be in tune to you.”

She turns to give a slight nod to Jeffrey, and he begins to play. Rachel seems to recognize the song instantly, if the look on her face is any indication, which only makes Quinn more nervous. Still, she musters up every bit of courage that she has in her body and opens her mouth to sing the opening lines. 

“ _Never knew I could feel like this,_ ” Quinn sings softly, watching a soft smile grace Rachel’s face, her eyes filling with tears, and it gives Quinn the slightest bit of confidence to continue, “ _Like I’ve never seen the sky before. Want to vanish inside your kiss, every day I love you more and more._ ”

As she sings, she keeps her eyes focused solely on Rachel, knowing she would not be able to continue if she remembered how many people they were surrounded by. Quinn focuses on Rachel, on her eyes and her face and her lips, mouthing the words along with her once she hits the chorus. 

When it comes to the time for Rachel to sing her part, she does, and the sound of her voice, so pure and raw and full of emotion, brings tears to Quinn’s eyes. She sings the verse, her eyes falling shut as she pours her heart into the words she’s singing, and Quinn falls in love all over again. She falls in love with Rachel’s voice and her passion and her talent and her love for music and her love for Quinn, slamming into her with the weight of a thousand suns.

Quinn joins back in, their voices melting together, as they belt out the final chorus of _Come What May_. Rachel’s voice is powerful, filling the entire room, while Quinn’s serves as a mere, soft harmony to the strength of Rachel’s. They harmonize perfectly, and Quinn is so glad she took the extra time to practice getting the harmonies correct because she is able to relish this moment, her and Rachel singing this song together, and bask in the glory of Rachel’s talent.

After their last note, there is a beat of silence before their friends and family all start applauding for them. Quinn blushes, and Rachel meets her eyes and throws her arms around her in a tight hug. Quinn holds her tightly, tears falling down both of their cheeks as they cherish this moment together.

“I love you, Rachel,” Quinn murmurs to her over the sound of the applause.

Rachel leans back and looks at her, and Quinn is overwhelmed at the sheer joy reflected in her eyes. “Until your dying day?” She asks cheekily, despite the tears in her eyes and the shakiness in her voice.

Quinn just nods. “And then some.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song mentioned is Come What May from the movie/musical Moulin Rouge. Stream it!
> 
> Also, I don't ask often but feel free to leave a kudos and/or a comment if you enjoyed this because I could use some motivation over the next few days. Thanks!


	27. day 27: on one of their birthdays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 27! Believe it or not, I actually did start this six weeks ago, right after I posted day 26. Alas, I did not make as much progress as I anticipated, and then I started school and got a bit overwhelmed with work. But here we are! All you need to know is that it's Quinn's birthday at the beginning of their junior year, and Rachel shows up with a gift. 
> 
> I can't say I'm in love with this one, but it was a cute concept, and I wanted to get it done. Also, I make no promises when the next update will come, but I promise I will finish these. There's only three left, so it would be a shame not to. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

A knock on the door distracts Quinn from her current task. (The task at hand being an intense game of Jenga with Mercedes, but a task nonetheless.) She stops midway through her attempt to remove her chosen block, slowly pulling her hand away from the tower, and eyes Mercedes cautiously.

“That’s still mine when I come back,” She warns cheekily. “Don’t even think about touching it.”

Mercedes holds her hands up in mock defense. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Grinning, Quinn gets up from her spot on the ground, wincing at the stretch in her legs as she stands up. She may have gone a  _ bit _ too hard at Cheerios’ practice that morning, but it was her first practice back on the team as the captain, and she wasn’t about to slack off or let any of them forget why she was put back on top. Still, the soreness in her legs does make her regret that choice a little bit.

Quinn walks to her front door, opens it, and sees Rachel Berry standing on her front porch, looking all sorts of uncomfortable. 

“Hi,” Quinn says. Her tone isn’t rude or uninviting, per se, but it is certainly full of confusion.

“Quinn, hi,” Rachel replies, her eyes wide with surprise. “You… you’re wearing glasses.”

Quinn’s eyes drop to the floor as she adjusts the frames on her face, cheeks turning red. Only Mercedes, Santana, and Brittany know about her less-than-stellar vision, and that’s only because of sleepovers and the fact that she lived with Mercedes. Even when she was living with Finn and Puck, she managed to keep her poor eyesight a secret, but she found herself not caring about her appearance as much around Mercedes.

She looks back up at Rachel, seeing her shocked expression, and says, “Yes, I am wearing glasses. Keen observation.” Rachel doesn’t respond, clearly not expecting that response from her, so Quinn continues, “Not to sound rude, but why are you here?”

Rachel doesn’t react for a moment, just staring right at her, seemingly lost in thought. Quinn is about to ask again when Rachel blinks twice and looks down, prompting Quinn to follow her gaze, and she notices the gift bag in Rachel’s hands. Looking back up, Rachel meets her eyes and says, “I, um, I heard you mention your birthday earlier this week, and, well…” She trails off, offering the bag to Quinn.

She accepts the gift bag, remembering the conversation she’d had with Mercedes in the choir room that week about the occasion. She hadn’t realized anyone had been listening, or Quinn definitely would have saved the conversation for later. Her birthday has never been a huge deal to her, just another mark of her growing up, and her parents never did give her too much attention around the holiday anyway. In fact, her mom is working late tonight, having left some cash and a note on the kitchen counter, wishing Quinn a happy birthday and telling her to order whatever she wants for dinner.

It’s better than nothing, Quinn supposes. And when Mercedes arrived an hour ago, bearing movies and gifts and a smile, Quinn smiled right back and invited her inside. Her friendship with Mercedes is still fairly new, having lived with her for just shy of a month before she gave birth and moved back home, but they had hung out a lot over the summer, watching trashy TV shows and movies and getting to know each other. In the wake of Beth’s birth, Quinn was so incredibly glad to have Mercedes, an unwavering, supportive friend, by her side throughout the past two and a half months. 

And, now, Rachel is here, with gifts and an embarrassed flush on her cheeks, as if she can’t believe she’s actually standing here right now. Rachel, the girl whose biological mother adopted her baby, the girl whom Quinn bullied for the better part of a year and then some, the girl who, for whatever reason, is always kind to her despite the awful ways that Quinn has treated her.

The girl who is standing on her doorstep with a birthday present for no other reason than a kind gesture. Which is why Quinn finds herself inviting Rachel inside before she can even process what she’s saying.

Rachel’s eyes widen, her eyebrows rising high, and she shakes her head in dismissal, insisting that she just return home, but when Quinn mentions that Mercedes is also here, Rachel seems to soften, relax even, and follows Quinn through the entryway, kitchen, and into the living room where Mercedes is waiting with curious eyes.

“Rachel’s gonna join us if that’s cool,” Quinn says to Mercedes, watching her expression carefully.

Mercedes just smiles. “Of course, Q. It’s your birthday after all,” She pats the ground next to her and says, “Got a spot right here for you, Rachel.”

Slowly, Rachel moves to sit next to Mercedes, and Quinn sets the gift bag down on the coffee table next to them before taking her seat on the ground. As she returns her attention to the tower of blocks in front of her, she sees Mercedes throw a wink at her, and Quinn rolls her eyes, cheeks turning red.

“Whose turn is it?” Rachel asks.

“Quinn’s,” Mercedes replies, nodding to her. “She’s been trying to get this one out for the better part of an hour.”

Rachel laughs, and Quinn shakes her head in embarrassment. “She’s exaggerating. It’s only been a few minutes.”

“Sure feels like longer.” 

She glares at Mercedes briefly, which makes Rachel laugh again, and Quinn finds herself delighting in the sound. Shifting her gaze back to the game, she takes a deep breath before she slowly reaches her hand out, grasping the block, and slips it out from the tower with what she hopes looks like relative ease. At her success, Rachel squeals and claps for her while Quinn smirks and places the block atop the tower. She sees Mercedes roll her eyes and reach out to grab her next block. As soon as her hand makes contact with the wooden tower, the structure comes crashing down onto her, and Quinn laughs loudly.

“You cheater.” Mercedes says playfully.

“How could I possibly have cheated?” Quinn retorts.

Mercedes just shrugs. “I’m sure you found a way.”

Quinn turns to Rachel with a pleading look in her eyes. Rachel just grins sheepishly, her eyes flickering back and forth between the two of them. “I’m gonna have to side with Quinn here.”

Quinn laughs in victory while Mercedes shakes her head and begins to clean up the game. Rachel quickly moves to help her, and Quinn watches the two for a moment, feeling a wave of serenity wash over her. She feels oddly calm, content in a way that she hasn’t felt since, well, since before she found out she was pregnant. It’s been just over a year, Quinn realizes, and the mere thought that it’s already been a year since her life, her entire world, shifted on its axis should be sending her into a deep, deep hole of which she’s not sure she could crawl out, but when she looks at her friends in front of her, she feels okay again. 

This feeling of tranquility persists throughout the night as they play games, watch movies, and eat snacks that would certainly get her kicked off the Cheerios if Coach Sylvester were to find out, but what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her. Rachel, as it turns out, makes wonderful company, and, at multiple points in the night, Quinn finds herself grateful that she invited her to stay. 

It’s when Mercedes says she should open her presents that things shift.

Quinn opens her gifts from Mercedes first, receiving a few books, an eyeshadow palette, and a  _ Star Wars _ t-shirt that has her blushing furiously while ignoring the shocked and amused look on Rachel’s face. One day over the summer she had told Mercedes about her secret love for the films, and it seems that Mercedes did not forget, much to her dismay. Still, she hugs and thanks her friend before she moves to the bag that Rachel had brought with her. The weight of the bag surprises her as she picks it up and moves it in front of her. Looking up at Rachel, Quinn sees her bite her lip in what looks like a nervous habit, and she’s suddenly worried about whatever could be in here.

She grabs the card from the bag first, and she’s about to open it when Rachel suddenly says, “Wait, um, you can save that for later.” Quinn eyes her curiously, but Rachel continues, “It’s just, uh, you know, the-the gift is better. The card is… just a card.”

Hesitant, Quinn just nods, sets the card aside, and gently pulls the tissue paper from the bag to reveal what is inside. It’s a large box, she notes, and she gasps upon realizing what it is. 

“You got me a record player?” Quinn asks incredulously, pulling the box fully out of the bag.

Rachel nods in response as Mercedes whistles, moving closer to Quinn to look at the box. Clearing her throat, Rachel explains, “I figured you might appreciate one, based on your taste in music, or at least the songs you sang in Glee last year. I remember you liking a lot of the oldies, a lot of 60s music, and, well, I thought you might like to listen to them on the original format in which they were released,” She pauses, thinking for a moment, before saying, “Or you could, you know, listen to the music from  _ Star Wars _ or something.”

Mercedes laughs, making Rachel grin brightly, and Quinn can’t find it in herself to be embarrassed at the subtle teasing because she’s overwhelmed with just how thoughtful of a gift this is. 

“Thank you, Rachel. Thank you so much,” She says with as much sincerity as she can muster up. 

Rachel smiles. “You’re welcome, Quinn.”

Just then, Rachel’s phone begins to ring, and she excuses herself to answer it, leaving Mercedes and Quinn alone. They spend a minute just looking at the box and silently marveling at the gift before Rachel comes back in, wringing her hands together in front of her.

“That was my dads,” She explains. “They were wondering where I’ve been. I should probably get home.”

Quinn frowns, finding herself genuinely disappointed that she has to leave. “Oh, okay. Are you sure? Mercedes is staying the night, and… I mean, you’re more than welcome to—”

“No, that’s okay,” Rachel interrupts, cheeks bright red. “Thank you, though.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll, um, I’ll walk you out.” Quinn says.

Rachel gathers her belongings, waving goodbye to Mercedes, and walks towards the door, Quinn following closely behind her. She slips her shoes on, and Quinn unconsciously does the same. Together, they walk out of the house to Rachel’s car, stopping just outside the driver’s side door. They’re both silent for a moment, neither knowing what to say.

Rachel clears her throat and licks her lips before saying, “I had a really nice time tonight. Thank you for letting me stay.”

“Of course. I’m… I’m glad you did.” Quinn admits shyly, a blush coming to her cheeks. “I’ve had a really great night, too. And thank you, again, for the present. It was really thoughtful and generous.”

Rachel smiles shyly. “I’m glad to hear that. And you’re welcome, again. I hope you and Mercedes have a good rest of your night.”

She’s about to open her car door when Quinn steps forward, impulsively putting a hand on top of hers to stop her motions. Rachel pauses, turning to look at Quinn, and suddenly Quinn realizes that they are mere inches apart, with her hand resting on top of Rachel’s. Blushing, she steps back, pulling her hand away.

“Sorry, I just, um…” Quinn says. “Would you, maybe, want to hang out sometime? Just the two of us?”

A bright grin lights up Rachel’s face as she nods. “I’d really like that, Quinn.”

Quinn smiles back. “Great! Cool, I mean, that’s-that’s super cool. I’ll text you sometime?”

Rachel nods. Quinn watches her stand still, wondering what she’s thinking, just as Rachel quickly steps forward into Quinn and gives her a hug. Before Quinn can even process what’s happening, Rachel pulls away and gets into her car, quickly starting the engine.

“Happy birthday, Quinn.” She says with a deep flush on her cheeks, waving a little bit before she backs out of the driveway. Then, she’s gone, leaving Quinn alone in her driveway, frozen, body tingling with the memory of Rachel’s body up against hers.

Her feet carry her back into her house, through the kitchen, and into the living room where Mercedes is watching curiously as Quinn grabs the card that Rachel had told her to save for “later” and opens it. Something falls out when she opens the card, and she decides to read before looking for whatever had fallen out.

_ Dear Quinn, _ it reads.

_ Happy Birthday! I’m not really sure if I’m gonna see you, or if I’m gonna just leave this present at your doorstep, so I figure I’ll just write some things here for you. _

_ I heard you mention your birthday to Mercedes earlier this week in Glee, and, well, I tend to make a priority of my friends’ birthdays. At least, that’s what I hope we are: friends. So I ran out to the store and got you this. As you know, music is very important to me, and I imagine it is to you as well, or I don’t think you would still be in Glee Club. I couldn’t afford to get you any albums to go with it, and for that I apologize, but I assume your mother might have some old ones lying around somewhere to get you started. I really hope you like it. _

_ As for the other thing, I decided to put aside my own feelings and make a call to Shelby that same day. I call her Shelby now, rather than mom, for a multitude of reasons, but largely because she has another little girl calling her mom now.  _

_ I can’t imagine how hard that decision must have been, and I hope someday we are close enough to talk about it. I want you to know I support your decision 100%. Shelby and I have our differences, but there’s nothing that your little girl deserves more than a loving home where she can get all of the love and care and attention that she deserves. _

_ You deserve that, too, Quinn. You deserve a lifetime full of love. And I hope that it’s coming your way soon. Because you truly do deserve it. Happy birthday, again.  _

_ -Rachel _

_ P.S. Isn’t she just adorable? Though it shouldn’t surprise me, considering who her mother is. _

Quinn is beyond confused until she remembers whatever had fallen out of the card. She picks it up, turns it over, and instantly her eyes fill with tears. 

It’s a picture. A wallet-size photograph of a little girl,  _ her _ little girl, whom she gave up just shy of twenty weeks ago–yes, she’s been counting–and is growing up so fast. Her hair has begun to grow in, tiny little blonde curls that steal the breath from Quinn’s throat, and her eyes have changed, matching Quinn’s shade of hazel, though Beth’s are just slightly greener than Quinn’s.

Rachel was right; Beth  _ is _ adorable. And she looks happy and healthy and the mere confirmation that she’s doing okay is enough to make Quinn smile through her tears.

“What’s in there?” Mercedes asks softly after Quinn’s tears have died down. Quinn holds the photograph out to show her, and Mercedes gasps. “Oh, wow. She’s… she’s beautiful, Quinn.”

“Yeah,” Quinn sighs. “She really is.”

“Rachel got that for you?” Mercedes asks, and Quinn nods in response. “Damn, she really talked to the woman that rejected her just to get you that picture. That’s… that’s a lot.”

“Yeah, it is,” Quinn agrees, staring at the picture in front of her.

“You know,” Mercedes starts quietly, “I don’t know how many people would do that for someone. Not to mention someone they don’t exactly have the best relationship with.”

Quinn nods pensively. “Rachel is… she’s… she’s special.”

“She sure is, Quinn.”

“You know I asked her if she wanted to hang out sometime?” Quinn mumbles sheepishly. “Like, just the two of us.”

“Good for you.” Mercedes replies with a grin. “You deserve that.”

“What?” Quinn asks.

Mercedes looks at her, raising her eyebrows. “You know what.”

Blushing, Quinn says, “Rachel said that, too. That I deserve… love.”

“Well, she’s right.”

Blushing even harder, Quinn pulls out her phone to send a quick  _ Thank You _ text message to Rachel. The response is almost immediate, and just reading it makes her smile.

_ You’re welcome, Quinn. I meant what I said. You deserve happiness. And I’m really looking forward to getting to spend more time with you. Also, you should wear your glasses more often. They look really nice on you. _

Quinn smiles, clutching her phone tightly to her chest. Mercedes clears away the presents to make room for them to lay down while Quinn revels in the sudden flood of emotions washing over her. And if she decides to wear her glasses to school on Monday, well, that’s entirely her decision (though she can’t deny a certain influence on such a choice). 


	28. day 28: doing something ridiculous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 28! Look at that! This one is inspired by a conversation I had with my friend when I randomly considered the idea of Quinn pulling a "reverse Glee". (Think Season 3 finale and the Finchel ending scene.) You'll see. This is just fully, fully ridiculous, and I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Also, a disclaimer: Let's just pretend that gay marriage was legal in 2012 in Ohio for the purposes of this fic, okay? Great, thanks.

“Are you sure this is the way there?” Rachel asks from the passenger seat of Quinn’s car as her girlfriend takes yet another seemingly wrong turn. This is the third one in a row, and Rachel is beginning to get concerned.

“I’m sure, Rach,” Quinn says softly, nervously almost. “This is just a shortcut.”

Not fully believing her, Rachel just nods and grabs her free hand sitting in her lap, tangling their fingers together. Quinn smiles and lifts their joined hands to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Rachel’s hand, her eyes remaining steadfastly on the road. Rachel smiles back, squeezing her hand tightly. 

They’re on their way to the train station in Columbus, tickets to New York City stowed away in their respective bags in the trunk. It’s only been a few days since graduation, but they have had this trip planned for what feels like months now; it only took Rachel’s acceptance letter to NYADA a few weeks ago to seal the deal. Not even an hour after Rachel opened her letter, after cheers and celebration with her dads and Quinn, she had been on the computer booking their tickets and creating a concrete plan for their trip. 

The train journey, which will take up the better part of a day, will take them to New York where they will spend a few days checking out the NYADA campus, looking at dorms for Rachel, and spending time together in the city. Then, they will take a short ride down to New Haven to do the same at the Yale campus for a day, returning to New York the next morning and beginning their trek home.

However, Rachel is getting restless with the thought of putting any of this off-schedule, and, if Quinn’s continuous missed turns are any indication, it seems that they are heading in that direction. 

“Quinn, baby, are you sure we’re going the right way?” Rachel asks again, desperate for her girlfriend to realize her errors.

Quinn just nods in response, saying, “Yeah, we’re almost there,” which makes Rachel even more restless.

She’s silent for a couple of minutes, but by the third time the GPS, fixed onto the dashboard, says _Recalculating_ , Rachel can’t take it anymore.

“Okay, why are you completely ignoring the directions?” Rachel accuses, watching Quinn’s face grow pale, her hands tightening on the steering wheel, eyes flickering over to Rachel for just a brief moment before returning to the road ahead. “Where are you taking us? Quinn?”

Quinn doesn’t respond. Instead, she makes her way into the rightmost lane, turns off the road and into the parking lot for some random, vaguely official-looking building, and parks the car directly in front. Rachel looks out of her window, _Franklin County Courthouse_ staring back at her. She shifts her gaze to Quinn as she turns off the engine and sits unmoving, staring straight ahead, hand still firmly clasped in Rachel’s.

Rachel clears her throat softly, drawing Quinn’s eyes towards her. “Quinn?”

“Yeah?” She says shakily.

“What are you doing? Why are we here?” Rachel questions. “What’s going on? We’re gonna miss our train.”

Quinn licks her lips, her eyes dropping to her lap. Rachel hears her take in a deep breath before she whispers, “I want to marry you.”

Rachel’s eyebrows furrow, not understanding what she’s trying to say. “I want to marry you, too, Quinn. In the future, someday, as we’ve previously discussed, but what—”

“No,” Quinn interrupts shakily, meeting Rachel’s gaze, hazel eyes shining intensely. “I want to marry you today. Like, right now.”

Rachel’s breath catches in her throat. Her heart pounds fiercely in her chest as she hears Quinn’s words echo in her head. Staring at her girlfriend, Rachel sees nothing but hope and sheer adoration reflected in her gaze, and she gets a sudden, heavy feeling in her chest as the reality of Quinn’s words comes crashing down on her.

“You… you want to get married? Today?” Rachel asks incredulously, watching Quinn nod in response. “But, Quinn, we–we aren’t even engaged.”

“Not officially, no, but, like you said, we’ve talked about how we want to get married.” Quinn explains, taking Rachel’s other hand in her own and squeezing it tightly. “And I just keep thinking about our future together, and how I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and, well, why not now?”

Her entire body floods with warmth at Quinn’s words, but she can’t help but push back. “I want that, too. So much. But, if we know we want to be together, why not wait until we’re older? This isn’t… because you’re worried that we’ll split up, is it?”

“No! Absolutely not. I believe in us, Rachel. I believe in us so much that I don’t see why we should even bother waiting.” Quinn says sincerely.

“What about my dads?” Rachel counters, her defense growing weaker and weaker. “Your mom? Our friends?”

“Your dads love us and support us. They might be upset, but they know we’re meant to be just as much as we do. And my mom already chooses to ignore our relationship, so what difference would this really make? Plus, I’m sure our parents would approve if we say we did it for the tax benefits.” She finishes with a dorky grin.

Rachel laughs, shaking her head, a litany of questions racing through her mind. Is she really considering this? Getting married to Quinn, right here, right now? Sure, they’ve been together for just a few months shy of two years now, but are they ready for this?

Looking at Quinn, with her expressive eyes and hopeful expression and her bottom lip trapped nervously between her teeth, Rachel falls in love all over again, and she knows they’re more than ready.

“Is this even possible?” Rachel has to ask. “I mean, don’t some kind of preparations need to be made? A license or something? And what about rings? Or dresses or any of that?”

Quinn’s cheeks turn bright red as she says, “I actually have a marriage license. I applied a few weeks ago, and it got approved earlier this week. And, as for rings, well,” Quinn pauses, releasing Rachel’s hands to reach into her pocket and pull out a small black box. She opens it carefully, and inside are two matching silver bands.

“Quinn!” Rachel exclaims, grabbing the box from her hands to look closer at the rings. “When did you get these? How much were they?”

Flustered, Quinn admits, “The day the license got approved. They weren’t that much, I promise. Plus, you know, every month my dad still sends my mom money, and she gives half of it to me, so…”

“You used your dad’s alimony money to pay for these rings?”

“Well, yeah.” Quinn smiles sheepishly. “And if you wanted to change, we do have plenty of clothes in the back. But you know I think you look incredible as always, and I would marry you in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt.”

For the first time in her life, Rachel is at a loss for words. All she can say is, “This is ridiculous. Are we really going to do this?”

Quinn cracks a shy grin. “When have we ever been conventional?” Then, she turns serious, grabbing Rachel’s hands again. “So, will you? Will you marry me?”

The question steals the air from Rachel’s lungs, and she’s hopeless to say anything but, “Yes. Yes, let’s do this.”

* * *

They’re shown to a waiting area after Quinn speaks to the person at the front desk, and Rachel is practically buzzing with nerves for fifteen minutes before they are told that the officiant is ready. Hand in hand, they walk to the designated room, seeing a woman standing at the doors to greet them. She introduces herself, says she’ll be performing their ceremony today, and asks them a few questions about themselves to get to know them a bit. They answer politely, and Rachel is so glad for the woman’s apparent nonchalance regarding their ages and that they are both girls. Thankfully, the officiant, Willow, explains that she’s performed several same-sex marriages of all ages before asking if they have any questions before they get started. 

“Can I–” Rachel cuts herself off. “Never mind, maybe it’s stupid.”

Quinn shakes her head, saying, “I’m sure it’s not stupid. What’s up?”

Rachel blushes as she asks, “I know there’s not exactly an aisle here, but I still have this dream of walking down the aisle to my future spouse, so I was just wondering if I could—”

“Rachel,” Quinn interrupts, “Of course you can walk down the aisle. Middle of the room, whatever. I’m sure you have a song in mind, too.”

She blushes even harder. “Am I that predictable?”

Quinn just smiles. “Yes, but in the best way possible.”

Willow shows her to the corner of the room with a speaker system set up for Rachel to plug her phone into, and she makes a quick playlist of some of her favorite love songs before she walks out of the room, giving a shy smile to Quinn on her way out. 

Standing outside of the room, Rachel takes a deep breath, thinking about the drastic turn her day has taken, and finds that she doesn’t regret a single thing. Her dads might kill her for it later, but, right now, all she wants is to have this moment with Quinn. Hearing her music start to play, she’s about to open the doors when she glances to her left and sees a vase of flowers sitting on a table. She looks around before walking over to the table and grabbing two of the flowers—fake, it seems—out of the vase. 

They are fake gardenias, and it’s almost too good to be true.

Rachel holds them together by the stems, takes a deep breath, and walks into the room. She spots Quinn instantly, just a mere fifteen feet across the room, and slowly paces towards her, _Never Stop_ by SafetySuit playing softly in the background. She takes the time to admire her girlfriend: her short, blonde hair, curled today, falling gently around her face; her simple white t-shirt half-tucked into her faded blue jeans; her gorgeous eyes; the dazzling smile on her face. 

Suddenly, Rachel falls in love all over again for the second time today.

When she gets to Quinn, she offers one of the flowers to her, and her eyes light up. “Are these gardenias?” She asks reverently, and Rachel nods. “Wow, that’s…”

“Yeah,” Rachel breathes out, equally awed. “I found them in a vase outside. I’ll return them when we’re done, I promise.” 

The officiant chuckles. “That’s alright. I’m sure two won’t be missed.”

Rachel blushes as Willow begins her remarks. Rachel is sure that they are the same, standard words that she’s prepared for every ceremony, but the sentiments still ring true in her heart. Every word that’s uttered strikes a chord in her heart that just screams _Quinn._ Quickly, they arrive at the vows, and Quinn defers to Rachel to see if she wants to say anything.

“I’ll be brief,” Rachel starts, earning an eyebrow raise from Quinn, “But I’ll just say that I can’t believe we’re standing here today. Literally, I can’t believe it. This is the most spontaneous, ridiculous thing I’ve ever done, and we will be on our way to New York in just a few hours, but I’m so glad that we are doing this. I love you so much, Quinn. You make me the happiest girl alive, and I can’t believe how much you love me, and I can’t wait to share the rest of my life with you.”

Quinn is crying and is obviously trying to hide it, and it makes Rachel laugh as she reaches out to wipe a tear from her eyes. Sniffling, Quinn grabs her hand and presses a gentle kiss to it. She entwines their fingers, their opposite hands still holding the flowers, and Rachel commits the moment to her memory.

Clearing her throat, Quinn begins, “Rachel, I can’t believe you agreed to this today, and I’m honestly surprised you didn’t just call me crazy and tell me to get back on the road. But it’s really a testament to our love. We are young, and we are probably crazy for doing this, but I know I don’t want to live any more of my life without you at my side. I know what life is like without you, and I don’t ever want to go back. You make me so happy, and I promise I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me.”

Now, they are both crying, and the officiant continues for a minute before she asks Quinn for the rings. She pulls the box out of her pocket, handing it to her, and Willow opens it carefully, holding it out for them to take the silver bands out. Quinn goes first, releasing Rachel’s hand to grab the slightly smaller ring. Quinn takes the flower from her hand, dropping them both to the floor, and gently lifts her left hand. Slowly, she slides the band onto Rachel’s finger, and Rachel is quick to reciprocate, grabbing the matching band and sliding onto Quinn’s left hand. 

They are led over to a nearby table, and Willow offers them both a pen, gesturing for them to sign the papers sitting atop the table. Smiling widely, Rachel signs her name on the official documents before her, swapping papers with Quinn to sign hers as well. She catches a glimpse of the silver band shining on Quinn’s hand in the corner of her eye, and Rachel nearly squeals with excitement. Quinn grabs her hand as they walk back to the center of the room and wait for the final remarks.

“Well, ladies, by the power vested in me by the state of Ohio, I now pronounce you two legally married.” Willow says with a smile. “You may, you know, kiss each other.”

Rachel does squeal this time, throwing her arms around Quinn’s neck and pulling her into a kiss. She feels her smile into the kiss as Quinn rests her hands on her hips, pulling their bodies closer together. Quinn is opening her mouth, sliding her tongue along Rachel’s bottom lip, when Rachel hears Willow clear her throat. Flushed, she pulls back, settling her head against Quinn’s shoulder, face turned towards the officiant. 

“That’s about it for me,” Willow explains. “I’ll go get this paperwork scanned and into the system, but you two are free from here. You can hang out here for as long as you want, and you can leave whenever you both are ready. It’s been a pleasure, girls. Congratulations.”

They call out their thanks as she collects the papers and exits the room, closing the door behind her. Instantly, Rachel lifts her head up and captures Quinn’s lips in a more heated kiss, sliding her lips desperately against her girlfriend’s. Wife. Her _wife’s_ lips.

“Oh my god,” Rachel murmurs between kisses, “You’re my wife.”

Grinning, Quinn lifts her hands to Rachel’s hair, tangling her fingers through the long, brown tresses. “Yes, I am. And you’re my wife, too.”

“I really like the sound of that.” Rachel admits, blushing, as she releases Quinn’s lips to look her in the eyes. “I can’t believe we did this. We’re _married._ ”

Quinn smiles. “Yeah, we are. You don’t… regret it, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Rachel insists, “I love you, Quinn. I’m so glad you are my wife.”

This time, it’s Quinn who blushes, admitting, “I really like the sound of that, too. And I love you, too, Rachel. I love you so much.”

Rachel presses another kiss to Quinn’s lips, one of love and commitment and pure adoration, before she says, “This trip is kind of going to be our honeymoon, huh?”

“Almost like it was planned.” Quinn says with a grin.

Rachel just shakes her head with amusement. “You’re not as clever as you think you are, you know that?”

Quinn just shrugs. “You’re stuck with me anyway. And now we have the next week to ourselves before we have to come back and tell anyone and deal with the consequences.”

“Maybe you are clever.” Rachel grins before kissing her wife one more time.

Hand in hand, they leave the room, fake gardenias dangling from Rachel’s spare hand as a memento. They leave the courthouse and get into the car where they’ll get on their way to the train station, on their way to New York City, on their way to the rest of their lives, together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own the song Never Stop by SafetySuit, but I highly recommend you all go listen to it because it is one of my most favorite romantic songs ever.


	29. day 29: doing something sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no see! I'm back at it, here with day 29! I can't believe this is the second-to-last one, and I'm hoping to get the final chapter out before the new year, but, again, I make no promises.
> 
> This is a follow-up to the previous one shot, day 28, which, if you don't remember, was recent high school graduates Quinn and Rachel spontaneously getting married. Go ahead and give that one a re-read if you want to, but it's not essential to understanding this one. Anyway, this is a sequel of sorts in which Rachel decides they need to throw a wedding reception. Hope you enjoy!

The past summer has been a whirlwind. When Rachel got married on a whim just three months ago, her expectations for the summer took a sharp left turn. Rather than spending her summer soaking up the last few uninterrupted months she would have with Quinn before they went their separate ways, Rachel has been in a state of blissful happiness, celebrating their recent (and spontaneous) marriage. 

What seemed like an insane idea turned out to be the best start to her summer. And now, as her summer comes to a close, their impending separation looms over their final days together, and Rachel is determined to make the most of it. 

“A wedding reception?”

Rachel smiles brightly, brushing over the confused look on her girlfriend’s—wife’s—face as she says, “Yes, baby, a wedding reception. We never did get to properly celebrate our marriage with everyone, and, well, we’re a few months overdue, actually. And it would be so nice to see everyone one last time before we all head our separate ways.”

She watches Quinn ponder the idea for a moment. “Was this your idea, or your dads’, because I do remember them insisting on throwing us a party when we told them and—”

“Mine,” Rachel promises, though she can’t deny that, “Well, maybe it was influenced by them a bit, but this is something I really want. For both of us. And my dads have promised to pay for everything, and we can spend time with all of our friends, and we’ll get presents, and we already messed with the order of things, so why not just keep going with it?”

Something in Quinn’s expression changes, her eyes lighting up for just a brief moment before a small grin forms on her face. “You just want to throw a party, don’t you?”

Rachel blushes. “It’s a good excuse, isn’t it?”

Quinn just laughs and leans forward to peck Rachel’s lips. “Okay, Rach, let’s throw a wedding reception.”

* * *

Throwing a last-minute wedding reception, as it turns out, is not as easy as Rachel had anticipated. Upon receiving Quinn’s approval, she had immediately called her dads, setting the date for the upcoming weekend. From there, the planning was non-stop. Between calling (vegan-friendly) caterers, shopping for decorations, and deciding on a location, among other tasks, Rachel has been swamped for the past couple days, overwhelmed with stress—happy stress but stress nonetheless—but having Quinn at her side throughout all of it has made the process (somewhat) more bearable.

Quinn is coming over this morning to plan out how they are going to organize and decorate, having decided to host the reception at the Berry residence, both out of convenience and a lack of available spaces on such short notice. In true Rachel Berry fashion, she already has many ideas brewing in her head, most of which she’s sure her wife will agree to, but the mere act of planning with Quinn, engaging in such domestic, occasionally bothersome, activities with her, brings Rachel such unparalleled joy. 

“Dads?” She calls out as she descends the stairs, “Quinn should be here any min—”

Rachel stops herself when she makes it to the bottom of the staircase, seeing Quinn already sitting at the kitchen table with her fathers. Leroy’s hands are covering hers atop the table, and she sees Quinn quickly pull them away.

“Rachel, sweetie, hi,” Her dad, Hiram, says loudly, getting up from his seat next to Leroy and walking up to her. He pulls her in for a brief one-armed hug, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head, and Rachel smiles and lets herself sink into the embrace for a brief moment.

“Hi, Dad,” She says, watching her father and Quinn stand up. “Quinn, hi, when did you get here?”

Quinn’s eyebrows raise as she says, “Oh, um, just a few minutes ago.”

Rachel moves out of her dad’s arms to greet her wife, kissing her briefly, all too aware of her dads’ presence and Quinn’s dislike for PDA. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here, then?”

Her face grows pale. “I, uh…”

“She was just keeping us company for a few minutes, dear,” Leroy explains, gesturing to Quinn. “Quinn makes such lovely company, as you know, and we would hate to interrupt your morning routine. We _all_ know what happens when you rush Rachel Berry.”

Scoffing, Rachel rolls her eyes as Quinn and her dads laugh quietly. “Yeah, but you could have sent her up. We are _married_ , you know.”

“Yes, how could we forget?” Hiram says teasingly, throwing a wink at Quinn as he says, “That is the whole reason she’s here, after all.”

Her dad’s words remind her of the reason Quinn is here in the first place, prompting Rachel to say, “Right! Planning time. Well, baby, I have a few ideas already that I’d love to hear your thoughts on—”

“In true Rachel Berry fashion,” Quinn cuts her off with a grin, making Rachel blush and shake her head fondly. She steps into Quinn, wrapping her arms around her shoulders for a hug, if only to hide the embarrassment on her cheeks. She feels Quinn press a kiss to her cheek as her arms come to rest around her waist, pulling her closer.

If she chooses to ignore the tear stains she saw on her fathers’ cheeks, or the residual tears still present in her wife’s eyes, well, that’s her choice.

Rachel pulls back, meeting Quinn’s eyes and mouthing, _I love you_. Quinn returns the sentiment, kissing the side of her head as they turn back to face her dads.

“So,” Rachel starts, “As I was saying…”

* * *

The remaining days fly by, and suddenly it is Saturday night, and Rachel and her dads are moving frantically about the house, making final preparations before guests start to arrive. The sound of the doorbell has Rachel’s heart skipping a beat before she realizes that it must be Quinn and Judy. Skipping over to the front door, she smooths out the front of her pink sundress before opening the door. She sees Judy first, giving her a brief hug and inviting her inside, and her eyes immediately flicker over to Quinn.

She sees her _wife_ , her short, blonde hair freshly cut and falling in gentle curls, wearing a dark blazer over a simple white shirt and fitted pants, standing somewhat nervously, her hands tangled in front of her. 

“Look at you!” Rachel says in lieu of a greeting, stretching a hand out, a hand which Quinn gladly takes in her own. “You look incredible!”

“Yeah?” Quinn asks shyly, “You think so? I just wanted to try out something new.”

Rachel nods. “It looks amazing. _You_ look amazing.”

Quinn blushes, pulling Rachel toward her and spinning her around. “Well, you’re one to talk. You look gorgeous, as always.”

“Thank you, baby,” Rachel murmurs, leaning up on her tiptoes to capture Quinn’s lips in a kiss. Quinn hums, moving her hands to Rachel’s waist and pulling her closer, their bodies pressing together.

“Girls, will you close the door and come in?” Judy calls out to them. “You’re letting bugs inside the house!”

Giggling, Rachel pulls away, grabs Quinn’s hands, and leads her inside the house. Judy smiles at them briefly before going off to find Rachel’s dads, presumably to give them a moment alone. 

It took some time for Judy to come to terms with their spontaneous marriage, especially considering her general state of apathy towards their relationship before the wedding. When they came back and dropped the (metaphorical) bomb on her that they were, in fact, now a legally married couple, Judy did not take the news too well. With time, though, she has grown warmer towards them, towards Rachel in particular, and it has been a joy to see Quinn forge the relationship with her mother that she’s always dreamed of having. It’s not perfect by any means, but it’s better than it was before, and they both know that Judy is trying her best.

“I’m so excited,” Rachel admits in a whisper, a smile bright on her face as she continues, “I can’t wait for everyone to get here.”

“Ever the hostess,” Quinn grins.

“You know me too well,” Rachel says, pecking Quinn’s lips. “Come on, I need your eye for final touches.”

She leads Quinn through the kitchen, pointing out a few decorations, and into the living room where the bulk of the indoor decorating took place. Quinn and Judy had been over the night before, helping to move furniture and set up tables both inside and outside, leaving Rachel and her dads to put up decorations today, as was their specialty.

Quinn nods with approval at the decorations strewn across the walls and tables, so Rachel takes her out the back door and into the backyard. Balloons and streamers are covering the back of the house and the fences enclosing the yard, and Rachel watches Quinn look them over fondly, nodding with approval. Then, her gaze flips to the tables that she set up yesterday, now covered with tablecloths, centerpieces, and miniature confetti pieces in the shape of gardenias—something they both insisted needed to be a feature part of their decorations. She watches Quinn walk toward the tables, smiling at the confetti, and straighten two of the tablecloths. Quinn eyes the speaker set-up in the corner briefly before her eyes flicker over to the shed in the back of the yard.

This last bit had been Quinn’s idea, a homemade photobooth area. Taped against the side of the shed is a large, baby blue sheet to use as a background. In front of the sheet, there is a tall, stand-alone arch, an item Quinn made herself, covered in (fake) gardenias and laced together with pink ribbon against the solid, plastic frame. It’s very clearly homemade, but it only adds to the charm of it. The ground in front is covered in white flower petals, and Rachel watches Quinn inspect the area, hoping the set-up looks even half as good as Quinn had imagined it. 

“Well?” Rachel asks nervously. “Is it okay?”

Quinn raises an eyebrow, shifting her gaze to Rachel. She puts her hands on Rachel’s arms, moving her to stand directly in the center of the arch, and takes a step back to look at her.

Smiling, Quinn says, “It’s perfect.”

Rachel blushes and beckons Quinn towards her. Stepping forward, Quinn wraps her arms around Rachel’s waist, leans her forehead against hers, and presses a soft kiss to her lips. Rachel can’t help but smile into the kiss, enjoying the moment alone with her wife.

“Everything looks wonderful, Rachel,” Quinn says, looking around one last time. “You and your dads did such a great job with decorating.”

“Well, my dads would never settle for anything less than perfect, so…” She trails off.

Quinn grins as she says, “No wonder they got you as their daughter.”

Cheeks bright red, Rachel scoffs, “What’s with all the sweet-talking, huh? You know we’re already married, right?”

Quinn laughs, “Yes, I am well-aware. I do have something for you though.”

“Oh?” Rachel asks excitedly, looking around the yard.

“Baby, it’s not hidden anywhere.” Quinn says, laughing at Rachel’s frown, and continues, saying, “I need to say some things first, so just bare with me.”

Seeing Rachel’s nod, Quinn says, “So, as you know, when I got the idea of getting married, it was totally a random thing, and I didn’t exactly have time to make any plans beyond the necessities. We didn’t have dresses, we didn’t get to celebrate properly, hell, we weren’t even engaged. But we had our love for each other, and that was all that mattered. And, well, seeing as we’re making up for missed experiences now, with this party, I wanted to make up for something else that we missed out on, too.”

Rachel raises an eyebrow curiously, about to ask what exactly she’s making up for, when Quinn takes a step back and lowers herself to one knee. Rachel gasps with realization, eyes locked on Quinn’s face, seeing unbridled love and hope reflected in her eyes.

“Quinn, what—”  
  
“You said so yourself, Rach,” Quinn explains, “We already fucked with the order of things, so why not just keep going?”

Rachel scoffs through her tears, “Well, I didn’t use _those_ words exactly.”

“Rachel, shush and let me propose to you.”

Those words shut her right up.

“As I was _saying_ , I didn’t get to do this the first time around. I didn’t get to make some grand speech about how much I love you and how much I want to spend forever with you, besides in our vows, but I didn’t really need to. We know each other. We know our love for each other. I will spend the rest of my life telling you how much I love you and how grateful I am to be with you. I don’t need some silly, borderline desperate speech to do so.”

At this, Rachel giggles, making Quinn smile as she continues, “So, I’m not gonna do any of that. But what I do have for you, what we did miss out on, is this.”

Here, Quinn pauses, reaching into her pants pocket to pull out a small box—a box that she certainly would not have been able to carry with her had she worn a dress—and Rachel gasps, tears coming to her eyes. Quinn flips the box open, and Rachel’s eyes lock onto a gorgeous diamond ring.

“Did you use your dad’s alimony money to pay for this again?” Rachel laughs through her tears.

Quinn rolls her eyes. “I’ve been saving up. And, well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Rachel laughs again, marvelling at the absurdity of the moment, and Quinn continues, “I know it’s not much, but you deserve it. You deserve everything good in this cruel world, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to give you everything you deserve.”

“So much for no cheesy speeches, huh?” Rachel says.

“Rachel, I am almost done, I’m begging you,” Quinn groans out playfully.

“Well, get to it then.”

Quinn clears her throat, her eyes locked onto Rachel’s. “I love you so much, Rachel Barbra Berry. Will you marry me?”

“We’re already married,” Rachel quips with a grin.

“I don’t care,” Quinn retorts. “Will you marry me?”

Rachel gives in, nodding tearfully as she slides to her knees and tackles Quinn in a hug. She feels Quinn’s arms wrap around her as she buries her face into her neck, her tears falling rapidly onto Quinn’s shoulder. 

“Is that a yes?”

Laughing, Rachel tilts her head back, looking Quinn in the eyes as she says, “I would marry you a million times over, baby.”

Quinn smiles brightly, fumbling with the box before getting the ring out and sliding it onto Rachel’s finger, sitting perfectly next to the silver wedding band. Rachel gazes at the rings for a few seconds before looking back at Quinn, seeing tears in her eyes. Rachel cups Quinn’s cheeks and kisses her, tears falling between them, matching smiles on their lips.

“I love you so much,” Rachel says into her lips.

“I love you, too,” Quinn whispers.

A sudden noise catches Rachel’s attention, and she turns her head to see her dads and Judy watching them from inside the house. She throws a hand over her face in embarrassment, eyeing Quinn suspiciously.

“Did they know about this?” Rachel asks accusingly.

Quinn nods sheepishly. “I told my mom, and, well, the other day when I came over early and was with your dads?”

Rachel gasps. “I _knew_ something weird was going on there!”

“I came over to ask for their blessing,” Quinn explains, “Though they mostly just laughed at me. But then they said of course, and I asked if they could attempt to take some pictures when I did it.”

“So they’re not just spying on us?”

Quinn cringes. “Well, a little bit. But I really did want some pictures of the proposal, especially with you in front of this gorgeous background.”

Then, a lightbulb goes off in Rachel’s head, and she looks around at her surroundings. “This whole photobooth thing was just a set up for you to have a nice place to propose, wasn’t it?”

“Guilty,” Quinn smiles sheepishly. “But isn’t it gorgeous?”

Rachel sighs, “It is. And so are you. And I love you so much, and I’m so happy to be married to you and also be engaged to you at the same time.”

Quinn laughs loudly, pulling Rachel closer as she says, “I’m so happy, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments always appreciated, especially as I try to crank out this final chapter before the new year :)
> 
> (Also, I have no immediate plans to return to this universe, but it's certainly something I am interested in doing. Let me know if any of y'all would be interested in that!)


	30. day 30: doing something hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 30! Rachel remembers the hot tub at Quinn's house and is determined to replace her memories of the hot tub with better ones. This was inspired by a drawing by @coastlinesquinn on twitter, and y'all should go follow him because they make really great art! 
> 
> Thank you all for coming on this journey with me, despite it taking far longer than thirty days. This really has been such an achievement for me throughout 2020; I've never written this much in a year before, and it has been all of your kudos and comments that have really kept me motivated to finish, so thank you. I hope you enjoy this final chapter. And happy new year! Let's hope 2021 has better character development than Quinn got on the show.

“You still have this hot tub in the back?”

Quinn glances at her girlfriend before she follows her gaze, looking at her backyard through the back window. In a fenced-off corner of the yard is the aforementioned hot tub, ivy crawling up the sides of the fence surrounding it. It’s been years since she’s been in the tub, not since her sophomore year, but she does do most of the maintenance for it: cleaning, pH checks, refilling the water, the likes. 

“Yeah,” Quinn explains, looking back at Rachel, “Mom uses it from time to time when her back is acting up.”

Not missing a beat, Rachel says, “How about when _your_ back is acting up?” She nods to the wheelchair folded up in the corner of the living room, slowly collecting dust from its weeks of neglect.

Quinn shrugs, “I prefer the bath.”

And it’s the truth. Despite any level of soreness from Cheerios practice or physical therapy, Quinn has not stepped foot in that tub since that dreaded day almost three years ago.

“Well,” Rachel says coyly, a grin forming on her face, “I know what we’re doing today.”

“Rach, no,” Quinn groans, already regretting inviting her over for the day. They’ve spent their time together this summer thus far exclusively at Rachel’s house, and of course Rachel would set her eyes on the hot tub on her first (and maybe only, depending on how today goes) visit to the Fabray residence.

“Why not?” Rachel asks, frowning.

Quinn shakes her head, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. “I don’t really use it.”

Rachel raises an eyebrow. “Sure, but you said your mom uses it, so it must be clean.”

“You don’t have a swimsuit,” Quinn counters, desperate.

“I can just borrow one of yours,” Rachel says, and the image of Rachel in one of her bikini tops flashes through her head for a brief moment before Quinn blinks rapidly, clearing the (admittedly tempting) image away.

“Rachel, please, I just… don’t think it’s a good idea,” Quinn says softly, gaze dropping to her lap.

Rachel scoots closer to her, their knees brushing as she says, “Baby, why are you so opposed to—Oh, my god,” She pauses, and her eyes grow wide with realization. “That’s _the_ hot tub, isn’t it?”

Quinn feels her cheeks turn bright red, hating every second of this conversation. “Rachel, please.” Her girlfriend laughs hysterically while Quinn is frowning, desperately trying to make the color in her cheeks fade away. 

“I just can’t believe that’s where you—where _Finn_ —”

“Rachel!” Quinn interrupts, the blush on her face intensifying.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Rachel says through laughs, “It’s just funny, that’s all. I dated him too, you know. I know what it’s like,” Here she pauses, a thought seemingly occurring to her, and she whispers, “Has the water been changed since then?”

“Oh my god, Rachel,” Quinn chastises, “Of course it’s been changed. Several times. And fully cleaned after _that_ incident.” At this, Rachel laughs even harder, and Quinn finds herself wishing she were anywhere else but here right now. 

“Does your mom know?” Rachel asks.

“God, no,” Quinn says, “And she doesn’t need to know. As far as she knows, I just choose not to use the hot tub because of the chemicals. Ignorance is bliss, especially for her.”

“And you really haven’t been in there since that day?”

Quinn sighs, “No, I haven’t, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Come on,” Rachel grins excitedly, “Now we _have_ to go in.”

“Rach, please?” Quinn says, seeing nothing but hope in her brown eyes. “That hot tub just brings back bad memories. _Very_ bad memories.”

Grinning, Rachel scoots even closer, leaning her face in towards hers. Bypassing her lips, she positions her mouth in front of Quinn’s ear before she whispers, “We can make good memories.” Rachel presses a soft kiss just behind her ear, sending shivers throughout Quinn’s body as she hears a whispered, “ _Really_ good memories.”

Quinn turns her head just so, capturing Rachel’s lips in a searing kiss. Rachel slides impossibly closer to her, her torso practically covering Quinn’s as their lips slide against one another. Quinn brings her hands up, running them through Rachel’s hair, and she feels Rachel gasp against her lips. Quinn is quick to seize the opportunity, sliding her tongue into Rachel’s mouth, eliciting gentle moans from them both before Rachel pulls away, their heavy breaths echoing in the silent room.

“We will continue this outside,” She says, grinning charmingly.

Quinn groans, letting her head fall back onto the top of the couch. Rachel stands up, smoothing out her skirt, and offers a hand to Quinn, who raises an eyebrow at her.

“What?” Rachel asks. “You’re not gonna pass up an opportunity to see me in a bikini, are you?”

“You know,” Quinn says, “We could just put on bikinis and stay right here. We don’t even need to go—”

“Quinn Fabray, we are going in that hot tub whether you like it or not,” Rachel says, “And, trust me, I will make _sure_ that you like it.”

Rachel winks, and Quinn practically melts, hopeless to do anything but stand up and do whatever Rachel wants her to do.

* * *

The mental image of Rachel in one of her bikinis is nothing compared to the sight in front of her.

Quinn is standing outside by the hot tub, making sure the water is clean and ready for use, her bright red bikini tied around her neck with matching shorts, when Rachel walks outside. The filter in her hand clatters to the ground as she sees her girlfriend standing in the bright sunlight. The light blue bikini top— _Quinn’s_ top, which fits Rachel better than it has ever fit her—rests perfectly against her tanned skin, and Quinn can’t take her eyes off of her. Her eyes are glued onto Rachel’s body, tracing every curve, every dimple, every ounce of her skin as if a magnet is holding her gaze in place, guiding it up and down every inch of her girlfriend’s gorgeous frame.

Finally, Quinn looks up at her face, seeing a heavy blush painted on her cheeks, and notices Rachel’s eyes similarly tracing her own body. She suddenly grows self-conscious, folding her arms over her stomach. She’s certainly not in the best shape that she’s ever been, and her skin is littered with scars, new and faded, lines and markings that represent parts of her past that she can’t run from. Though they are evidence of her survival, Quinn isn’t proud of them, and she avoids looking at them as much as possible. To have Rachel standing here, staring at her body littered with imperfections, is nerve-wracking.

Rachel walks towards her slowly, the sway of her hips capturing Quinn’s gaze, and she feels her cheeks heating up with all of the thoughts running through her mind right now, thoughts she’s been actively suppressing for the past weeks of their relationship. It’s only been a month, and they have been taking things slow because of the newness of it all, but Quinn cannot deny the surplus of sheer desire that she has been feeling. It’s unlike anything she’s felt in any of her previous relationships, the constant need to touch and taste and _feel_. And, lucky for her, Rachel seems to feel the same way, if the look in her eyes right now is any indication.

“You…” Quinn starts, stretching out a hand that Rachel easily takes in her own, lacing their fingers together, “Are so incredibly gorgeous. This looks so good on you, I might just let you keep it.”

Blushing, Rachel squeezes her hand and says, “Thank you, baby, and you, well… You already know how I’ve always envied your looks,” She admits. Quinn drops her head, and Rachel tucks a finger under her chin, lifting her head back up to meet her eyes. “You are so beautiful. Every part of you.”

Rachel’s words crash over her, a wave of warmth filling up her heart and spreading throughout her body, and Quinn can’t help but lean forward and kiss her. Rachel responds beautifully, melting into the embrace for only a moment before she tilts her head back, her forehead resting against Quinn’s.

“Hot tub first, then more of this,” Rachel insists, much to Quinn’s dismay.

Rolling her eyes, Quinn spins around to check over the water one last time, nodding to herself, and turns back around to see Rachel’s eyes lingering shamelessly low on her body. Her eyes shoot back up, cheeks turning red, and the mere thought of Rachel admiring her body has Quinn smiling and winking at her, delighting in the embarrassed look that appears on her girlfriend’s face.

“It’s ready when you are,” Quinn says, and Rachel grins and claps excitedly as she steps past Quinn and climbs into the tub. 

Quinn is more hesitant as she looks around to make sure they have towels (which they do) and that everything else is put away (which it is), doing her best to delay the inevitable. Sighing heavily, she begins to ascend the steps, pausing at the top.

“Take your time,” Rachel says lowly, and Quinn looks down to see Rachel’s eyes roaming across her body. “I like the view from down here.”

“You are unbelievable,” Quinn mutters.

“Unbelievably turned on by my girlfriend right now.”

Quinn gasps, “Rachel!”

“What?” Rachel asks with faux-disbelief. “Come on and get in here before I die from your hotness.”

“You are so dramatic,” Quinn says as she descends the steps into the water.

Rachel scoffs, grinning. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” She admits, settling into the hot water, her muscles relaxing, and she lets out a sigh at the feeling. She moves to the corner, closes her eyes, and feels her breathing slow down as she fully relaxes and sinks into the warmth. Hearing movement, Quinn opens an eye and sees Rachel wading towards her, a shy smile on her face.

“It’s nice, right?” Rachel asks quietly.

Quinn nods, “Yeah, it is.”

Silently, Quinn scoots over, and Rachel takes the hint, sitting next to her on the bench. Quinn wraps her arm around Rachel’s back, pulling her closer, and Rachel gently pulls Quinn’s arm around her waist as she rests her head on her shoulder. They sit in silence for a few moments, and Quinn looks around at the decorative lights still hung up along the fence, the bulbs long since burnt out but yet to be taken down.

Sitting here, the warm water lapping around her, Quinn is easily taken back to that day, sophomore year, and she suddenly feels gross all over. She sits up straight, feeling Rachel’s head fall from her shoulder, and starts to stand up when Rachel grabs her hand and tries to pull her back down.

“Hey,” Rachel says softly, “It’s okay. You’re here with me. You’re okay.” Quinn relaxes at the soothing sound of her voice. She sits back down, and Rachel turns her body to face her, whispering, “Let me help you forget.”

Rachel leans in and presses her lips to the spot behind her ear. Quinn turns her head, giving Rachel better access which she takes advantage of, trailing kisses down her jawline. A soft sound escapes her lips when Rachel reaches her neck as she presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to Quinn’s pale skin. The combination of the hot water around them, the feeling of Rachel’s lips against her skin, and her warm breath hitting her neck has Quinn boiling over with pleasure, and she’s so close to losing herself to the feeling when her eyes land on the opposite side of the pool. 

She freezes in place as Rachel continues to kiss her neck. “Rach,” She whispers.

“Mhmm?” Rachel hums, lips sliding across wet skin.

“It, um,” Quinn mumbles, “It happened right there,” She says, gesturing outward, a moan falling from her lips at the feeling of Rachel’s tongue against her skin.

“Okay,” Rachel breathes, her breath hot against Quinn’s neck, “We just won’t go over there, then.”

Quinn is about to protest when Rachel lifts a hand to her cheek, turning her head towards hers and capturing her lips in a desperate kiss. Quinn gives in, sliding her lips against Rachel’s with fervor, desperate to replace old memories with new ones. Rachel seems to be on the same page as she slides her hands down from Quinn’s face to her neck, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. Quinn feels Rachel’s tongue slide along her bottom lip, and she moans into Rachel’s mouth when their tongues meet. 

She feels her heart beating rapidly in her chest, hears herself gasping for air between kisses, and tastes nothing but Rachel’s lips and tongue. But she’s not close enough, Quinn decides, and she reaches her arms under the water, grabbing Rachel’s waist and pulling her closer. Their legs tangle together as Rachel leans forward, pressing her torso against Quinn’s, and they both moan at the feeling. She feels Rachel all over, in her mouth and her hands and on her chest and stomach.

Rachel wraps her arms around Quinn’s neck and begins to slide a leg over hers when she pauses, separating their lips to look up at her. “Is this okay?” She asks, voice heavy, breathing raggedly.

Quinn looks down at their bodies, the swell of Rachel’s breasts tempting her beyond belief, and says, “Yeah, yes, please.”

Rachel slides across Quinn’s lap, straddling her legs, and tilts her head down to connect their lips. Quinn gasps at the feeling of Rachel on top of her, their chests pressed together, and she scoots forward on the bench, letting Rachel wrap her legs around her. She feels Rachel everywhere, heat emanating off of her onto Quinn, water splashing around them with their movements. 

Quinn pulls away from the kiss to attach her lips to Rachel’s jaw, kissing her way across her jawline and down her neck. She’s oddly reminded of being in a similar position with Finn, doing this same movement, but the thoughts are fleeting, quickly replaced with the sound of Rachel’s soft, breathy moans and the weight of her body on top of hers. Quinn smiles against her skin, worshipping her neck, admiring the smoothness and scent of her skin, a stark contrast to the past.

A loud moan escapes from Rachel’s lips, and Quinn stops her movements to focus on this particular spot. She sucks gently, her tongue pressing against Rachel’s skin, and a brief scrape of her teeth against her neck has Rachel moaning even louder, rocking her hips down into Quinn. Moaning at the sudden relief, Quinn presses her hips up into Rachel before she realizes what just happened and pauses her movements. Their ragged breaths interrupt the silence around them, panting heavily.

“That was…” Rachel trails off, tilting her head down to look at Quinn.

“Yeah,” Quinn breathes, looking up at Rachel. Her face and neck are flushed, her chest is heaving, her lips are swollen, bright and pink, and Quinn has never been more attracted to her.

“Was it… okay? I mean, like, is that… was it…” Rachel stutters out, and Quinn could almost laugh at her speechlessness if she wasn’t so turned on by the fact that she is speechless because of _her_.

“It was more than okay,” Quinn admits breathlessly, watching Rachel smile brightly.

“Yeah?” Rachel pants, “Me too.”

Quinn leans up and kisses her, moving her hands up and down Rachel’s back before coming to settle at her waist. Rachel smiles into her lips, releasing her hold around Quinn’s neck and bringing her hands down to cover Quinn’s. She brings their joined hands down her back, moving lower and lower until they pass the curve of her lower back and—

Yeah, Quinn loves the hot tub. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened! Thank you all again for reading. Stay tuned/subscribed for any future fics I have coming out!
> 
> And if you're reading this from the future, congrats on making it this far! Hope you enjoyed, and kudos and comments are Always appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are very much appreciated!


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